


Consulting Landlord

by latethoughts



Series: Consulting Landlord [1]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dark, F/M, Fluff, Heist, Humour, James Moriarty - Freeform, John Watson - Freeform, Marriage, Murder, Mystery, Only at times, Organized Crime, Pining, Puzzles, Riddles, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, soft sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latethoughts/pseuds/latethoughts
Summary: Meet Charlotte. She's Mrs Hudson's granddaughter while living with her very busy grandmother she meets a various amount of characters coming to the door of none other than Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Sometimes ending up joining in on solving cases, she's often thrown into a world of mischief, mayhem...and James Moriarty.





	1. The Crossword

Knock knock.

Knock knock.

I waited. Someone's at the door and I'm the usually the one to get it because my Nan has a bad hip and no one else has feet apparently.

Knock knock knock.

"For goodness sake" I complained and put the newspaper down, giving up my 'me' time for Sherlock's clients as always. I marched to the front door and opened it, stepping to the side so they could enter.

"Hi, I'm looking for Sh-" the lady started.

"Upstairs" I cut her off, it's 7.30 in the morning and the kettle hasn't finished boiling. I'm not in the mood to deal with people right now.

"I'm afraid I can't go upstairs sweet" she replied, I looked to her. She was in a wheelchair.

I am such a dick.

"I am so sorry, I really a- I'll go get him for you, if you just roll into there I'll you a cup of tea and he'll be right with you" I spoke as I lifted her up the stair to get into the building. I prefer not to make eye contact with that lady from now onwards.

I entered the boy's apartment because it was always unlocked and they generally don't care, well Sherlock doesn't.

"Sherlock!" I yelled and walked towards his bedroom, "wheelchair client downstairs" I opened his bedroom door, he was still sleeping. I sighed and put the kettle on, prepping two cups of tea. I heard John waking up so I thought I'd be nice. I went back into Sherlock's room and held his nose, he opened his mouth to breathe so I covered it with my other. He held up for a while, almost 10 seconds. Then he fidgeted and pushed me away.

"Alright, alright! What does she want?" He spoke hastily.

"Good morning Mr Grumpy, since she's your visitor I thought it would be your business" I replied, putting emphasis on the word 'your'. Implying that she isn't my problem.  
I got out and made their teas, leaving them on the coffee table for them to see.

"I am too much a Hudson" I muttered to myself as I left. Much like my grandmother, I am quite the optimist and very nurturing, but don't think for one second that I'm a pushover. 

I made chitchat with the lady for a good 5 minutes before Sherlock came down. He wasn't dressed and was carrying his tea. He was being very rude from the start.  
"Sherlock Holmes, pleasure and all I know. What's your case?" He asked.

"Well, it all started around a month ago when my husband died-" oh boy.

"Not a ghost, just your children trying to scare you to death so they get their inheritance faster, thank you" Sherlock got up and left me with the old lady. I let out a breath and confirmed his suspicions.

"Do the lights turn off suddenly?" I asked.

"Yes"

"Things breaking around the house?" She nodded, "weird noises?" She nodded again, "all while someone is home with you?" 

"Yes I live with my son" 

"Yeah, he's trying to kill you," I said in my 'hate to break it to you' voice.

That was just a quickie, they often happen in the morning. A lot of Sherlock's individual cases are often missing persons or infidelity cases. But sometimes there's that special one. The special one at 11am which makes Sherlock the happiest chap in the world. Murder. Mystery. Annoying cops in my grandmother's building.

"Oh hello Charlotte" John greeted, he always nodded when greeting someone. 

"Where are you two off too?" I asked, holding my crossword book.

"The morgue," Sherlock replied, putting his scarf on, "getting chips on the way if you want to come along" he invited.

"Please do. I get incredibly lonely while with him" John joked.

"I talk to you" Sherlock was confused, John and I both had a chuckle. I accepted their invitation and went along, hoping they'd pay for chips.

*

We all looked at the body and noticed something straight away.

"Hey, that's last weeks crossword" I commented on the markings on the man left breast.

"How can you be eating chips while looking at a corpse?" John asked me, bewildered.

"Well, I can't smell it" I replied, expecting it to be a good enough excuse.

"You're not wrong" John muttered and crossed his arms over his chest. Sherlock stole a chip then examined the body, I chit-chatted with Molly while he was doing that.

"Could you two please be quiet? I'm thinking" Sherlock looked at the guy's chart, "there are no puncture marks anywhere?" He asked Molly.

"No nothing. It was definitely arsenic that took him," she replied. Molly always had this sparkle in her eye when talking to Sherlock. John and I often talked about the poor girl being in love with this dick of a detective.

"Right. Since I haven't read his file, this is probably only a rough estimate of what happened. Judging by his weight and frown lines he wasn't particularly a happy man, nor depressed really. He was melancholic, done with life anyway. Probably because he got divorced because his ring finger has a tan line, if he was widowed he might still be wearing the ring. I can't explain the death at this moment but this tattoo or mark is peculiar" Sherlock explained the mark on his left breast, he turned to me, "what did you say before? That this was a crossword" he looked closer.

"Yeah, last week's. Only there's no spaces or F's and number 3" I said, looking closer.

"F's and 3, how did you recognise that is was a crossword?" John inspected but not for too long.

"I do the games in the newspaper every week, also there are numbers just on his side, 01/02, last week" I pointed out and moved the corpses left arm out a little.

"You show off" Sherlock commented. I stayed silent but smiled at the compliment.

*  
"Charlotte do you mind doing me a favour?" Sherlock asked while texting.

"No way, last time you asked me for a favour my eyebrows disappeared" I replied.

"It was an experiment. It's not that, I need a female to accompany me to a gathering tonight. Mycroft is making me attend and told me to bring a date that wasn't John" Sherl explained. I patted Johns knee playfully and he smiled and shook his head.

"Okay, I'll come, thank you for the invite. What time are we going?" I asked. Sherlock still wasn't looking.  
  
"7.30, wear something elegant but noticeable. I want everyone focused on you"  
  
"Why? What are you planning?" I asked suspiciously as we pulled up home.  
  
"Oh not much. I want you to be distracting though, so try and overcome your anxiety and talk to people" Sherlock replied before exiting. Dick.   
  
*  
So at 7.30, we got into a limousine with Mycroft and his date, well his secretary. His eyes lit up and then frowned in confusion.  
  
"Hello Charlotte, you look very uhh-" Mycroft started.  
  
"Hot" finished his secretary, looking up only momentarily from her phone.  
  
"Where's my brother?" Mycroft asked, just as I was about to reply, Sherlock climbed in.  
  
"I'm here. I'm he-" Sherlock paused, smiling at me, "well done" I laughed. I was wearing a silky red dress with a side slit.  
  
Arriving at the hall, more like a palace, Mycroft wanted to talk to me. He asked me to wear a tracker, it was inside a pendant necklace which looked like a heart.  
  
"This is for your safety, I don't know Sherlock's plan with you tonight but just in case a dangerous man shows up. This will protect you" Mycroft was kind to me, even if he didn't notice.  
  
As soon as I exited the taxi I realised we really attended an auction to raise funds for children in need.  
  
"Oh" I commented while Sherlock took my arm and led me in, "Sherlock" I started.  
  
"Yes. I entered you into the auction" Sherlock said carefully. I bit my tongue and decided to breathe instead of losing my shit.  
  
"Is this why I have a tracker in my necklace?" We were inside now.  
  
"Just a precaution. I've got 10 grand to bid you, don't worry" Sherlock was smiling and looking around the place. I stayed quiet but continued smiling because there were cameras around.  
  
"I'm in danger tonight aren't I?" I clutched tighter onto him, I thought he wasn't going to reply but he grabbed two champagnes and gave both to me.  
  
"Chug," he said simply. I looked at him like he was crazy, "it will make you less anxious" I did as I was told. It was really fizzy.  
  
"You've heard of Jim Moriarty yes?" I nodded, "well my network has informed me that he's been taking young women and you know" he trailed, taking a sip of another champagne for himself. I shook my head, confused.  
  
"What? Killing them?" I whispered, panicked. Sherlock shook his head and laughed.  
  
"No, no. Sleeping with them. I've finally got a way in. Beautiful women" he looked at me and fixed my hair. "Charlotte, I know you studied drama so tonight put on your most dominant performance okay? I need you to be flirty and ready for any banter alright? You can say no, you have a choice. This is just a huge favour for me, you never have to see him after tonight, I've already got plans for your fake death after this"  
  
"I'm on my third champagne in 30 seconds, you're talking a mile a minute" he's going to repeat what he said right?  
  
"Go out there, dance with men. Make yourself known, be promiscuous but also classy" Sherlock sent me to the dance floor where I danced with Mycroft's secretary. I danced for a good 20 minutes and talked to about 3 men, being flirty with them like Sherlock said, but as soon as they would try and get a kiss I backed away dancing saying I loved the song.   
  
I was getting quite warm and I didn't want to sweat so I went to the bar and ordered a water.  
  
"I saw you dancing out there. You have quite the moves" a short Irishman walked near me. His stubbly beard complemented his sinister square-shaped face and dark wide eyes. I recognised him from Sherlock's notes. James Moriarty, pictures don't do him justice.  
  
"Thank you, are you a dancer?" I placed my hands behind my back and hopped toward him, attempting the Irish dancing. He smiled and looked away, not expecting that kind of reply.  
  
"I dibble dabble, what's your name lady in red?" He asked, he chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked at my body.  
  
"Charlotte, and yours?" I replied, doing the same thing to him and trying to be obvious. He was wearing a nice navy suit.  
  
"James Moriarty," we made eye contact, knowing whoever would break it would be the loser.  
  
"Full name on the first meeting, very brave. Pleasure" I held out my hand, he planted a lingering kiss, he broke the eye contact. I grinned.  
"Charlotte, oh hello" Sherlock grabbed my shoulder.  
  
"Sherlock, this is James-" I started, I might as well play dumb.  
  
"I know who he is, if you'll excuse us" Sherlock walked me to a line of girls, there were 4 before me, "playing dumb is good, very good. Can I just fix this?" He asked and proceeded to fix my hair. What's so wrong with my hair?  
  
They called up girls until they got to me, "Next up is 24-year-old Ms Charlotte Hudson" I walked up to the stairs and posed awkwardly I think. I don't know how to stand right now, where do your hands go? Just keep smiling. "Three interesting facts about this lovely lady, she speaks fluent French, does gymnastics and she can tear up a dance floor, as we've all seen tonight" for presenter said. What? I did French in high school, and gymnastics when I was 8. Where did these bogus facts-Sherlock. It was obviously Sherlock.   
"And let's start the bidding, let's say 500 pounds for this lady in red"   
  
A few men stuck their hands up. I feel violated and embarrassed, slightly flattered but I mainly just wanted to leave.  
"1000, 1500, 2000, 3000, wow. 5000?" Presenter continued.  
  
"10,000 pounds!" Sherlock yelled and began walking to the stage to get me. I sighed with relief.  
  
"10,000 pounds! I think we have a winner! Congratulations Mr.Holm-"  
  
"20,000!" Shouted a familiar Irish voice. Shit, this was supposed to happen. Moriarty was supposed to bet on me and then I somehow end up going on a date with him while bugged.  
  
I made eye contact with Sherlock, he gave me a reassuring look and smiled, "20,000! Oh my, Mr Holmes would you like to make a higher offer?" The presenter asked. Please. Please do Sherlock. Sherlock shook his head and stepped back into the crowd. It was like he disappeared instantly.  
  
All eyes focused on the man in the navy blue suit walking towards me. His walk was as seductive as the look he gave me. I could tell that look made women weak at the knees, I felt it too. When he was congratulated he kissed me on the cheek. We walked off to the bar together and got a few more drinks.  
  
"You know you broke the record tonight?" James stirred his drink.  
  
"I did? I thought 50 was the highest ever bid"   
  
"You broke my record sweetie, I've never spent more than 200 quid on a woman before. Nothing like sexual, just like dates and presents" he clarified. I never thought I'd see a psychopath get nervous.  
  
"And here I thought this guy really wants to help unfortunate kids" we both laughed, "oh go on, ask me," I said.  
  
"Ask you what?"  
  
"What's Sherlock really like? Is he messy? Is he nice? Have you slept with him? Is he a eunuch? Just kidding, they don't know the definition" I was drunk and philosophical.  
  
"I am acquainted with Sherlock but I would like to find out a bit more about the man I suppose," he paused, " but tonight and tomorrow are about you? What should I know about you? What are your deepest darkest secrets?" He came in really close. J burped in his face and laughed.  
  
"I'm so sorry. I don't have any specific secrets. I have many thoughts if you're interested in death and the universe"  
  
"You don't seem so boring" James muttered.  
  
"I'm excruciatingly boring because I'm passionate James. I'm a passionate thinker, activist, fighter, lover" I kept pushing him on every word, " but I also care for nothing. I have to always put me first, people are just made selfish I guess" I sipped my water.  
  
"I'd love to continue our chat, here, put your number in my phone. I have a busy day tomorrow so I'll call you tomorrow night" I put my number in, he gave me a kiss on the cheek and a wink goodbye, "tell Sherlock I said bye"  
**  
The next day I was woken up at 8 by Sherlock shoving me off the bed.  
  
"What the hell?"  
  
"Today's crossword, look" he shoved the newspaper in my face but I couldn't read it straight away.  
  
"Um, alright" I waited for my eyes to adjust, "what am I supposed to be looking for?" Sherlock tapped the paper again.  
  
"It matches the one on the body. No F's and no 3! It's a pattern, one I can't deduce at the moment. Is it a locker? If so, where? Is it an apartment? If so, where? Ugh...do you mind making me a tea?" he spoke as I got out of bed and make breakfast.  
  
"Why are you coming to me with this?" I asked.  
  
"John got a lock put on his door" he replied.  
  
"Genius" I commented, "well, are you going to go to The Daily Telegraph and search for whoever does the crossword?" I asked, assuming it was obvious.  
  
"I searched the name in the bottom corner, 45-year-old Angela Parker. 2 sons, 1 step-daughter that she isn't fond of judging by the number of family photos the daughter is cropped out of and is a really big fan of David Cameron," Sherlock probably just looked at her facebook, "no word of anyone close to her dying so I doubt she's part of the case"  
I grabbed the newspaper and completed the word search when I finished I noticed the remaining letters spelt something out.  
  
"Um, Sherlock" I got his attention, his head turned and he looked at what I had written. Then silence filled the room, Sherlock dashed out, "where are you going?!" I shouted after him.  
  
I looked back at the paper and reread the word over and over; bakerst _._  
  
I didn't see Sherlock for the rest of the day, I had no idea what he wanted me to do on my date with James tonight. Fortunately, Mycroft necklace was still with me. If Moriarty is as dangerous as Sherlock says, I don't want to risk anything.  
  
 _Dress in another fine gown tonight love. I'll be there in an hour x_  
 _JM_   
  
Okay, 'fine gown' what does he mean by that?  
  
I rummaged through my belongings. I owned a fair amount of sundresses but in this weather, I'll need something to cover my arms. So I opted for a black pencil dress with a mesh top. Not as classy as the red gown but it looked sexy with a hint of professionalism. 

An hour later there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a suave looking James at my door. I must admit, I would definitely jump into bed with this man. He's so cool and mysterious and flirty. He smiled and licked his lips before speaking.  
  
"You certainly look delectable tonight" he commented, his smile made me weak at the knees.  
  
"Thank you, you look as good as last night" I have no idea what to say.  
  
"Shall we?" I took his arm and he led me outside into a sleek black car.  
  
"So what are we doing tonight?" I asked, my nerves were setting in.  
  
"It's a surprise. Are you alright? You seem...different" he scooched closer.  
  
"I haven't had 7 glasses of champagne tonight so forgive me if I seem a bit quieter. Although I'm still happy to discuss my existential thoughts"  
  
**  
I had a bit to drink at dinner and ended up at James house drinking a little more on his couch.  
  
"So go on, tell me your deepest darkest secret and I'll see if I can top it" we had been talking non-stop since the restaurant. My hand was on his thigh and he was drawing little circles on my shoulder.  
  
"Oh I don't know if I can do that, not with Mycroft's microphone around your neck" he touched the pendant. I was scared for a moment, then grinned and took it off.  
  
"And if you're lucky, that's not the only thing coming off" I giggled and hiccuped then laughed some more.  
  
James licked his lips and looked at my body. He already had his jacket off and tie loosened, the way he slouched and held his scotch was just so sexy it really didn't help that I was already a flirty drunk.  
  
"Alright, I like how you think. But I don't share my secrets darling. Not as easy as you" he came closer and pushed the hair out of my face. I smiled at him being patronising to me and let out a chuckle, "what's so funny?"  
  
"What secrets have I told you tonight exactly?" I asked. We both got in a less familiar position on the couch.  
  
"Well, where should we start? You've expressed your thoughts about life and how pointless it is. I completely agree with you, by the way, staying alive is so boring I can't even entertain myself anymore"   
  
"Those aren't secrets, those are thoughts I share with everyone-well those who can handle it" I explained myself.  
  
"Okay, well when you're alone at home you're terrified of someone coming in the middle of the night to kill you. That's why you lock your bedroom door" he seemed so proud of himself. I tried hiding my smile but I failed, I ended up with too much air in my cheeks and burst out, "you lied to me"   
  
"I'm really sorry, I just wanted to see how far I could get"  
  
"So you never actually got arrested for assaulting a man on the street for yelling at you?" He asked.  
  
"I'm riddled with anxiety, I could never hit someone in public," I said. He seemed hurt, well not hurt. Just silent, "I didn't mean to upset you-"  
  
"Upset me?" He interrupted, "I am bewildered and so impressed. Your crying really had me convinced that you were hurt..." he stared off into the distance, "how would you like a job?" He asked.  
  
"A job?" I asked.  
  
"Yes"   
  
"Doing what?" I didn't mean to sound so rude.  
  
"There are certain men I'd like you...talk to"   
  
"Lure?" I asked if that's what he meant.  
  
"Close. You see, I'm sure you're familiar with what do. I know Sherlock can't help but talk about me"   
  
"He's mentioned you here and there" I readjusted. Sherlock often brings up James at totally random points in the day and sometimes won't even mention him for weeks then suddenly 'MORIARTY' he shouts. It's pretty annoying but I do think this suave dressing psychopath does get to him. He doesn't really look smart, then again, neither do I.  
  
"Good," he smirked, "then you know not to cross me," he made sure I was looking at him by stroking my face, "otherwise I'd skin you" he sang and tapped on my nose, his smile was gone but his face was relaxed. I tried to ignore the lump in my throat and continued to sound confident.  
  
"That must surely work with the ladies. Tell me, do you always offer a call girl job to every woman on the first date?" I was faking a smile but I felt that it was convincing because I was leaning in closer to him. His eyes scanned me before making eye contact and smiled.  
  
"No you're just very very special to me" he spoke slowly and gently.   
  
"Because I have ties with Sherlock. You know that if I'm in danger he'll save me, or you'll kill me and it'll really mess him up or I join your side and that messes him up even more because who can he really trust?" I surely did not control my filter. James leaned back and took a breath.  
  
"Did you just come up with that?" He asked, I nodded and took a sip of my water. I'm assuming our relationship bad changed from flirty to professional within a manner of seconds. "You're a lot smarter than people give you credit for aren't you?"   
  
I winked at him and had a sip of water, "How much does the job pay and will I be affiliated with your crimes in any way?" I asked.  
  
"Straight to business I see, no hanky pinky for Jimmy tonight then" he stood up and poured himself a glass of scotch.  
  
"I never said that" I replied, leaning forward. James paced slowly but came to a stop to drink.  
  
"Its commission based. For every person you help 'lure' I'll give you 2,000 pounds and you will obviously work under an alias so you won't be in any records for what I have planned"  
  
"What exactly am I going to do? Go to a bar and flirt with them, get in a taxi to go to a location and then you show up and kill them?" I spoke fast but clearly.  
  
"Are you psychic?" He joked, "I don't always kill people, I make deals. I sometimes send people to make my deals. I don't often like to get my hands dirty you know" he put his glass down and walked to me. I took his hand and we walked upstairs.  
  
"Are you all ready seducing the new girl?" I asked.  
  
"Enough with the questions love" we reached a very neat room, "are you taking my offer?" I nodded.  
  
"Yeah" I really needed for money to pay for Nans medicine and bills and food and everything. I swallowed what I thought when thinking of Sherlock, am I betraying him.  
  
"Good. Get in there" he winked and tilted his head towards the bedroom.  
  
I walked into the cleanest, fanciest bedroom I had ever seen. One burgundy feature wall with a navy blue satin sheets bed upfront of it felt delectable on my fingers. I sat on the edge of the bed and smiled as James began unbuttoning his shirt.  
"So there's no clause I should sign? Is tonight included in the benefits package?" I joked, James chuckled. I stood and kissed him, he brought me closer as soon as we touched tongues. It felt so amazing to be touched again, it's quite hard meeting fellows when Sherlock always finds something wrong with them. Like, one time I brought my new boyfriend Jake to meet my Gran, and Sherlock said he had a wife and kids. Or like that other time when Sherlock accused Travis of multiple accounts of domestic violence, although that one was actually nice of him.  
  
I guess I'm just attractive to sick, twisted people. There was a time I had a crush on Sherlock himself, mainly because of his total apathy towards anyone insulting him. I think I found it admirable, also his dedication to working out. How did he get those muscles?   
Speaking of muscles, how did James get his? Who has time to work out when you're a mastermind? He's on his phone a lot and constantly on the run. He never stays the same place at once. I remember seeing a photo of James in one of Sherlock's files. I thought he was cute, very cute. I liked that he styled his hair, I liked his fashion sense and smile, even if it was creepy in certain situations.  
  
It's hard to believe I'd be in bed with the most dangerous man in the world. The act was naughty, which made it hot.  
James' grip on me tightened as he unzipped my dress. When it came off, James had this look in his eyes, sort of mad lust. Nothing I've ever seen before. He growled as he pounced on me. Feeling our whole bodies touch sent me over the moon. The wet kisses on my neck combined with his hands travelling down my body down to rub me made me yearn for more.  
I felt his hardness and pulled him closer with my legs wrapped around him. I managed to flip us and get his pants off.  
  
"Hey now. I'm a bit used to being in control-" I pushed him down.  
  
"It's been way too long for me to focus on foreplay right now. I'm in charge" I put my finger to his mouth to shush him. He opened his lips and bit it slightly. When I pulled back he licked his lips. I pinned him to the bed and guided the head around my area and slipped him in. We both groaned. I went slowly and softly. I could see the strain on his face that he wanted to go faster. I grinned and looked up, taking my sweet time. I eventually went deeper and deeper. James had his hands on my hips, lifting me up and rolling me on him. I was in ecstasy.  
  
**  
I awoke in the morning with a nasty headache. Luckily there was a glass of water beside me. I noticed it was 6am. Still dark outside. James wasn't by me though, I looked outside his window there he was, in a robe smoking a cigar and talking on his mobile.  
I decided not to bother him and go back to bed. He hopped in 3 minutes later.  
"I know you're awake, you've already had your water" his voice didn't match his mood. He was distracted by his phone.  
  
"I'm not pretending to sleep. You'd see that if you looked up. Honestly, young people and their devices" I flipped my hair back.  
  
"You're funny. They'll love that," he looked up finally and realised that I was already changing, "oh, ready to leave are we?"  
  
"I had my phone blow up with messages and calls from Sherlock and John, I better get back before they suspect something. Do you mind calling a cab?" I asked while slipping on my shoes.  
  
"I'll take you in my car" he didn't change out of his robe. The drive was longer than I thought it would be, I almost fell asleep. As I was about to leave, James touched my arm, "I think you're forgetting something" he smirked and looked up to Sherlock's apartment, I saw the curtain close.  
I rolled my eyes, feeling guilty for my night, but I ducked back in the car and gave him a kiss goodbye.  
"I have a job for you tonight, I'll pick you up at 10" he spoke then drive off. 10? I'll be asleep by then.  
  
When I entered I saw Sherlock upstairs, "you're up early" I spoke. Sherlock rushed down.  
  
"Date went well" he used inflexion but I knew it was a statement because he glanced down. He reached the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Very well" I went to the side to enter my flat.  
  
"Charlie-" he stopped me and I turned, "be careful" I nodded and went to sleep.  
  
**  
Once again I was woken up by Sherlock tapping a newspaper in my face. I pushed him away twice but he wouldn't go. I groaned as he made me read the missing letters again. Only this time today's crossword was different.  
"No A's or number 16," he sat at my desk and looked through other newspaper puzzle pages that I had kept and finished, "every week or changes. It stays the same for 7 days and then just-"  
  
"Sherlock," he turned to me, "what if they're initials" I spoke.   
  
"Initials. Of course. Of course, that makes bloody sense. I went to 3 Baker street yesterday and it was just a torn down building. Spent the whole day here and didn't find anything. So that means that our mystery corpses initials were either C.F or F.C"  
  
"Angela Parker is A 16. Do you think she's in danger?" I asked.  
  
"She could already be dead, whoever is setting this up is either warning someone or planning it" he rushed off and then back, "well come on then"  
  
"Where's John?" I complained and buried my face in the pillow.  
  
"Door is locked," we said in unison.  
  
"Just put on a jacket, we're going to the daily telegraph. Today's crossword isn't by Angela Parker."   
  
I quickly got changed and got in the cab, "so did he offer you a job?" Sherlock was texting, I'm guessing it was Lestrade. The question caught me off guard but Sherlock is a smart man, I should have expected him to know. But how could he?  
  
"Yes," I replied, "and I accepted. Just like the rest of your spies that got caught up and fell too deep," I was checking my phone, 9am. I looked up and saw him smirking at me.  
  
"You're too observant," he commented.  
  
"Did you really just say that?" I put emphasis on the 'you'. "So who were the others? Homeless network? Agents?" I tried studying his face.  
  
"I messaged them on Gumtree and offered money, obviously they took the hundreds," he paused and looked at me, I furrowed my brows, "thousands from Moriarty. I would get yourself tested by the way, just for safety" fuck you too mate.  
  
"I meant what I said this morning, be careful. Don't let him manipulate you, don't fall for him. This man-he's hardly a man he's more a snake just wanting to slither his way into your personal life and find out information out of you about me-" I tried interrupting him several times but it's no use.  
  
"Sherlock I know. I've read your personal notes about him. You talk about him even when you're not even conscious. You're both equally obsessed with each other. He's a monster. I'm not going to fall for him, I'm not going to betray you, I promise" I made she that was clear. No amount of attention or charm or from a man will get me to cross a friend, especially one who has saved my life a number of times.  
  
"I know I can trust you, but you have to contain yourself around him. Tell him what you want about me, I don't care. Just nothing personal about you or your family. He'll use it as leverage. Also, you don't exactly have the best taste in men" he added at the last moment.  
  
"I've already had my fun lying to him all night, also they only show their criminal behaviour once we break up" I folded my arms across my chest, holding my head high.

Finding Angela Parker was unsuccessful, no one from work had heard from her this morning. Scotland Yard went to her house and no one was home. I feared she may already be dead, maybe a different part of the paper explained where the body was, or where it was going to be. Wait a sec, bakerst.  
  
"Sherlock, it's not Baker Street it's Bakers Terrace" I let out.   
  
"Bakers Terrace doesn't exist," Lestrade said confidently.  
  
"Yes, it does its a patisserie right next to a newspaper printing company. That's how the marks ended up on his body. Oh, Charlotte you are a ge-well I'd call you a genius except I'm in the room," Sherlock kissed my forehead and got in a cop car.  
  
We were on our way to Bakers Terrace with Lestrade. 3 other cars followed us. Sherlock got out first but went to the printing company next door, Lestrade and I went into the patisserie and found nothing. What?   
  
"But she has to be here, no one has had contact with- she's still alive" I ran next door with everyone. Lestrade told me to wait in the car because I was a civilian and I could get hurt. So I stayed but went to the side door. I snuck in and as soon as I looked down my blood ran cold. There at my feet was a bloody, beaten, shaking redheaded woman wearing a nightgown. I looked back to make sure the door wouldn't suddenly lock behind me but it did, it was only an entrance door.  
  
"Shit. Angela?" I whispered, he woman whimpered, "Ms.Parker?" I spoke clearer.  
  
"Oh my gosh. You have to save me, please, please get me out" she begged. There was a crash, she yelped, "he's coming," she cried.  
  
I went beside the door since there was nowhere to hide in this room. A man swished the door opened and grabbed Angela immediately, not noticing I was even in the room. I used it to my advantage and jumped on him. At first, I thought it was a wonderful idea, two women up against one man. But this one man was very hard to take down and   
I ended up being taken out to the main area with a knife at my throat. The fat man had Angela on a rope behind him. She was really weak and exhausted. Probably forced to stay awake.  
  
"Suspect and hostages. Stay right where you are!" I couldn't put my hands up because I was pinned to this guy, "Charlotte? I thought I said stay in the bloody car!" Lestrade was not pleased to see me. I smiled real quick and it disappeared from my face.  
  
"Sorry" I called out.  
  
"Let us out or I'm slitting her throat in front of everyone" he called out. I could feel the jagged edges against my neck. I felt that if I moved even the tiniest bit, it'd scratch my jugular and I'd be out on the floor.  
  
"Charlotte, remember to breathe," Sherlock spoke out. Not everyone was here so I'm assuming some police went to get evidence or maybe went around back, "let them go, Clive. You're a smart man, you know the outcome if you don't. A sniper rifle is going to hit you in the back," Sherlock was slowly getting closer. My pulse was running a mile a minute. I tried keeping calm but a bloody knife was at my throat what else could I do but cry. I let out a few tears but didn't sob.  
Sherlock made eye contact with me, then looked at the knife and back to me. Oh no, he wants me to try and grab it.  
  
"It is Clive, isn't it? Clive Forrest. You tricked the rest of us by killing someone who looks like you. You've wanted to work in the newspaper for decades, instead of murdering journalists and making a big deal you decided to go for the lesser known employees. 6 different people, we thought there was no link until my friend Charlotte here figured out it was something to do with newspapers. The police were getting hot on your trail up until your apparent death, then you were safe again. Free to kill whoever worked for the puzzle section in any newspaper. But how did you get them to give us the clues?" Sherlock stalled. I could feel the knife beginning to slip away.  
  
"This one here, she was easy. I posed as a handsome man on social media and we got talking about crosswords and word searches. It took me a while but eventually, we sent each other a location to meet at; Bakers Terrace," as soon as he said that, he pointed outside, that's when I ducked out of his grip and punched him in the nads and then wrist. He fell to the ground, I kicked the knife away and ran towards Sherlock. I embraced him as tight as I could and cried and let out all the oxygen from my lungs.  
"It's alright you're safe. You're safe" I knew he wanted to finish his sentence 'for now'.  
  
I was too anxious to even notice everyone rushing to arrest Clive Forrest and get Angela Parker to safety.   
  
**  
I took off the blanket they kept putting on me. I was at the police station to explain what I saw before the squad had the showdown. I was sitting next to Sherlock in the waiting room.  
  
"Can they stop giving this to me? It's really hot in here,"  
  
"It's for the shock. I never really understood it" he grabbed the blanket and threw it to another seat.  
  
"I'm not in shock, I'm impatient. We've been here for like 5 hours, what's taking so long?" I looked around, not that there was anything to look at. I did notice that it was 6pm and that I had to 'work' tonight.   
  
**  
  
After I finished my statement I caught a taxi home with Sherlock. I had tea and a talk with John and my grandma and things seemed normal for once. Except that there was a criminal mastermind in my bedroom at 10pm.  
  
"James!" I cried out, I jumped and calmed myself down. I shut my bedroom door making sure my grandma didn't hear.  
  
"Hey sweetie," he was sitting on my bed eating a banana.  
  
"Sorry, I'm not ready. I've had a busy day. I can be ready in two minutes though," I apologised and walked towards my wardrobe.  
  
"You're not going anywhere," he said sternly. Oh no, he doesn't need me anymore. He's going to kill me.  
  
"What? Why? What happened?" Don't stutter, you seem weak when you stutter.  
  
"I know what happened to you today. Clive Forrest held you at knifepoint. Unfortunately, he was the client you were meant to lure tonight so I could get my money," he rubbed my shoulders and hugged me. I hugged back, I was too uncomfortable not to.   
  
"Wait. Did you fake his death?" I asked. I don't know why a smile was creeping on my face. But one was creeping on his face too, he shrugged.   
  
"Why are you smiling?" He sang.  
  
"For once in my life, I feel smarter than Sherlock Holmes. Mentally, emotionally, wow" now I feel dumbfounded. I sat down on my bed.  
  
"Well you're very very special" James wrapped an arm around me. I grinned. I do wonder what's in store for me from now on.


	2. The Hungry Hungarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim makes a mistake which causes Charlotte's life to be at risk.  
> After a few months away from home she comes back a different person.

I had been on a few 'jobs' lately for Jim. I usually have to charm some poor sucker into a cab where Jim or one of his henchmen would be waiting. It took no longer than half an hour usually, which I was grateful for because during the day Sherlock has me on my feet. Not always with cases, sometimes he pays me to clean his flat. Worst. Job. Ever. But I am making quite a lot of money, Grandma has been very happy with all the new presents I'm getting her, although she has become suspicious, which is why I took Sherlock's offer. But tonight I'm at the bar, texting on my phone with my new boss/accidental lover. I know Sherlock told me to keep my distance and believe me I have. I definitely definitely have. Just not at all physically.

_You're looking for a stocky fellow, blue eyes, brown dreadful hair, wearing a dark green suit. Don't flirt too much ;) x_   
_Jim._

He said that a lot. I was starting to wonder if he had become attached to me. I've been going out almost every 2 or 3 days, then I have to wait for his 'business' to be over to be able to go home. Most of the time I just crash on his bed because he takes so long.

Stocky man with dreadful hair, where are you? Ah, there he is. He was on the phone on the other side of the bar. I bought a drink and tried making eye contact from across the room. Occasionally looking away to seem shy and biting and licking my lips. He seemed interested after 2 minutes and made his way closer.

"Can I buy you something?" He had a thick accent but I couldn't tell what it was.

"How about a Screaming Orgasm?" I asked and scorched closer. I checked him out, my look is both deductive and seductive. I giggled and he chuckled a bit.

"I can give that to you for free" he joked, I laughed a little louder and playfully slapped his arm. Maybe it's Russian?

"Naughty. What's your name handsome?" I asked while he ordered the drinks.

"Derek, and yours?" Obviously fake name mate but I'll give one too.

"Holly," we shook hands mockingly, "what is a suave dressed man like you doing in a place like this?" We were at a bar, but it wasn't that fancy. His smile was bright and eyes were lingering.

"Just buying a beautiful woman a drink" we tapped glasses and mine broke, the liquid went all over me. I gasped and had my hands up. "Shit, sorry! I am so so sorry. Here, napkins" he offered me two napkins. I grabbed them and began patting my torso dry.  
I sighed, I risked a white dress tonight, that really pissed me off.

"It's fine. Thank you" I thanked him, "ugh, I don't think this is coming out"

"I have stain remover in my house, you want to go?" Wow that was easy. I smiled.

"Okay, let's get a taxi" I said. Derek walked out first while I was texting Jim.

_Coming out now x_

We got into a cab with one of Jim's henchmen as the driver. Derek said his address and we were on our way. Jim often set up different locations to corner his clients or targets based on the meeting spot. It's often in a run down looking place or some field somewhere, I never stayed log enough to find out if someone was a target.

The driver stopped at a dimly lit hotel,"This is not right" Derek spoke. I got out the car and into the drivers seat, "What is happening?" He panicked. He tried escaping but the driver quickly grabbed him. The driver turned to me and nodded, that clearly meant drive myself back to safety, so I drove to Jim's and let myself in.

11pm: bored.

11.30pm: bored.

12am: bored and starting to yawn.

12.37am: saw a mouse and now will not sleep.

1am came around and I started to drift off to sleep, until I heard a door slam and it jolted me. I let out a little cry, I can never handle loud sudden noises. I took a moment to compose myself and then opened his bedroom door slightly.  
I peeked through and saw him flipping chairs and kicking walls.

"I don't CARE about having him dead or alive. Just get him!" He yelled. I flinched, something went wrong tonight.

I went and sat on the bed, perhaps I should call a cab and go home. Although, if someone's missing I could be at risk. Crap, what do I do?

"You're still up" Jim broke my trance. His tone was soft but his eyes seemed menacing yet melancholic. I smiled politely and stood up.

"Yes, I managed to stay awake. Is everything alright?" I slowly got closer to him. He was unbuttoning his shirt.

"You can't leave" he wasn't facing me.

"What?" I stopped approaching him.

"The man that you brought to me tonight escaped. I don't want you out there" his tone was serious and made me worried. It wasn't for my safety it was me thinking about our relationship and do we even have one?

"Wouldn't I be at greater risk here if he knows I'm the one that's lured him to you? Surely he's not that dumb to look me up on facebook and try and stalk me" actually that's quite an easy idea, but I gave him a fake name and I think he knows it.

"I have this place secured at all times, no ones coming in or out without my permission"

"So you're basically holding me against my will" it was a statement that didn't need any answer. He hesitated before speaking, looked at me and came close to hold my face gently.

"You're an adult. Charlotte you're very valuable to me I don't want you hurt. If you walk out those doors you are no longer under my protection. As much as I care for you..." he let go and looked away.

"I get it. You need to put yourself first bossman" I rubbed his arm. I was quiet for a moment, I guess my grandmother wouldn't be that worried if I stayed out yet another night, "I'll stay" I compromised. But I won't stay for longer than a night.  
He hugged me and gave me a peck.

*

"Another body of a young brunette woman was found near Hyde Park today, missing her tongue. Police are undergoing investigation and have not confirmed if this is attached to the 3 recent homicides in the London metro area" the newsreader announced. I was in my living room eating my cereal. Jim allowed me to go home because it's easier to keep an eye on me during the day. I felt watched, but I also felt so sort of...protected I guess. Whenever I turned my head I could feel someone's eyes, hoping they were just an employee of Jim's and not a stalkers.

"Are you alright?" John asked, I had been staying with them during the day just as comfort for me. He's picked up on some of my anxiety though.

"Huh?" I looked up from staring at nothing, "oh yeah fine. Just daydreaming" I replied and took a sip of my tea. John out down the newspaper, he was reading while the telly was on. The recent murders happening all over London is scaring everyone. The deaths are all connected; young brunette woman, early to mid twenties, often travelling alone and I think I have an idea of who the main target is.

"Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade is the the primary investigator, here's what he had to say at today's press conference" the newsreader said. At that moment Sherlock came out of his room, wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"Come on, Scotland Yard" he said as he exited, "you too Char" oh come on. He must know I'm somehow connected.

*

"The freak is here" Sally let the three of us into Lestrade's office. Sally and I were on good terms, even if she was really judgmental.

"Sherlock, John-what are you doing here?" Lestrade asked me. I shrugged.

"She can identify the killer" Sherlock smiled. I tilted my head in confusion.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh my god, were you attacked?" John asked me, making eye contact. I shook my head.

"No. I don't know who you're talking about" I denied any responsibility.

"Charlotte has been my little spy and some of her work has actually paid off" Sherlock spoke, "you can trust her with the details of the case George"

"It's Greg" Lestrade corrected.

"Can you stop changing your name it's getting very confusing" Sherlock replied.

Lestrade told me what connected all the girls; from their appearance to their intellect. All girls were named Holly. Holly. I looked down to the ground. All those girls are dead because of me. I held back the tears but a few slipped through. Greg knew the killer had been short and stocky, that's it.

"Charlotte, anything you have would be very valuable" Lestrade was being patient.

"I'm very sorry Greg but I'd much rather speak with Sherlock right now, if that's okay" I responded. He leaned back and sighed but agreed. As soon as he left I texted Sherlock as fast as I could by pretending to cry really hard on the table.

 _I can identify the killer but I have to hide._  
He's coming after me because of my work with Moriarty.

He entered the room shortly after I sent it. I slid my phone onto my lap hoping no one would notice. Sherlock's phone buzzed when he entered, he checked it quickly and then glanced at me. As he slid his phone in his pocket he kneeled down in front of me.

"Charlotte. You got attacked in Hyde Park when you were taking a run, it's okay to talk about assault okay? You're safe. Just tell the sketch artist what he looks like, you can make a statement later. Just describe him" Sherlock was loud enough for those behind the double mirror to hear. I nodded. All I had to do was describe him and then make up some bogus story later. This feels really insensitive.

When I finished I received a text. It was a picture of me walking into the police station, then I received another of me checking my phone. Confused and worried, I looked to the direction of the photographer but didn't see anything.

_Gotcha 'Holly'_

I waited for Sherlock and John to exit.  
"You alright?" John asked.

"Of course she isn't. She's terrified, honestly John" Sherlock grabbed my phone and saw the messages. He looked in the same direction I did then wrapped an arm around me and walked me to a taxi, but he stood in front of me and gave his coat to John, who entered the taxi. Sherlock and I caught another to Baker street.

"Stay hidden" Sherlock put me in his room and closed the curtain. I have no idea how to react, I honestly am bewildered. We entered Sherlock's flat, John had closed the curtains and made me a tea. Sherlock told me to sit down so I did, I bounced my knee up and down nervously while he paced and began thinking about his next move.

"Tell me everything about what Moriarty made you do" he struggled to find that sentence, it's as if he refuses to believe that I make my own decisions. Yes, I know working for Jim is bad but I need the money, I'm desperate for it.

I took a deep breath before explaining the night in question.  
"And that's about it. I never know what's going to happen, Moriarty explained to me that he had escaped," I paused and bit my lip, "he-he had escaped from him and..." I tilted my head in confusion. Jim always has copious amounts of men around him, Derek would have to be a mastermind or ninja to escape all 4 men in the room and 5 outside the area.

"And?" John asked. I shook my head as if to dismiss the idea that Jim was playing games with me. I knew that he'd bug the building and probably myself for all I know. I got up and went to take a sip of my tea.

"Sorry, lost the train" my manner was chirpy again, I then took a sip while looking at Sherlock, he seemed to have gotten the message that something was wrong, "ugh, this is ghastly" I stood up and went to the kitchen.

"What are you talking about? I've always made your tea" John got up as well, clearly offended. I scattered around the counter searching for a pen and paper. I also got another cup. Ah, here they are. I began writing my message.

"Yes and you're usually amazing but today I'm not really feeling the eyeballs" I showed him, he peeped and almost gagged. He apologized and sat down but before doing so he pointed to Sherlock.

"Your fault" he sat.

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed, "How is it my fault? Why didn't you check the mug properly?"

I finished my message and left it on the counter. I made myself another tea and sat. While I had a chat with John, Sherlock traipsed over to the kitchen and read the message silently, I saw his eyes scan the paper and finally frown, he glanced at me then returned to his normal stoic self.

The letter expressed my thoughts that Moriarty may be manipulating me. Making me think that I need him, I'm going to play into it because I would be safe with him. I do genuinely believe that this Derek is trying to kill me so I'll be staying with Moriarty for a while.  
The letter also said that the building may be bugged.

"Charlotte if you ever need anywhere to stay for a while you and Mrs. Hudson can come with me" John offered. I nodded.

"That's a good idea, I'll ask her if she'll be open to it but in the meantime I'll be staying with Jim" I felt a cold chill run down my spine, as if I just sold my soul, John was bewildered.

"Moriarty?" John need clarification.

"Yes," I rose, "it's the safest place for me to be. Don't worry I'll be fine" I got ready to leave, it's almost 6 and I don't want to go too late.

*

"Was your meal good?" Jim asked, I had just eaten the best carbonara of my life. Jim was staying with me tonight because he wanted to make sure I was safe, I tried acting normal but he caught on. I was in his bedroom peering through the blinds.

"Are you feeling alright?" Jim appeared behind me and and began rubbing my arms. I leaned my head back.

"I'm holding up well considering there's a maniac on the loose trying to kill me" I replied. Jim pulled me closer to him.

"Try to stay away from the windows, in fact it might be safer if you were in another room" this confused me.

"Another room?" My disappointment was clear on my face, Jim cupped my cheek and smiled.

"Don't fret my pet, it's not the basement or anything. The penthouse is classy and open and not at all creepy" he paused, "that doesn't sound very convincing I know but it's really exquisite" he took me to another flight of stairs and guided me through a small door with a small hallway that opened up into a really nice fresh looking room.

"Wow" I let out, I don't know whether this man is manipulating me into staying with him by spoiling me or scaring me or both? Or if he's even trying to get me to stay with him for a long time to piss off Sherlock. To be honest all I really cared about right now was for macaron centrepiece on the dining table. It was like a studio apartment up here, I loved it.

"See? Sorry I didn't sell it well. I only come up here when more than 5 of my men plan a mutiny"

"Does that occur often?" I asked. He shrugged.

"More often that I hope. It's the safest place for you right now Charlotte. There's many hidden exits, a panic room, the glass on the windows are 3 inches thick. I want you to stay here for a while" he grabbed my hands. I frowned and bit the inside of my cheek.

"I know I should stay, I just don't want to abandon my grandmother and my friends" I slouched down on the couch. Jim joined me, my head was I his lap.

"I'll take care of anyone you want. Including Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson" he added the last bit even though he didn't want to. I sat up.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked, he waved his hands as to say 'go on' "how did that Derek escape you?" He thought about his answer.

"He was one of my top men, his names Ivan, my old number 4 or so. He knows Krav Maga and didn't even make it into the building. At first I thought you were late, but when I went outside I saw 3 of my men dead, I was irked to say the least. This lad is smart, smarter than I anticipated, he hides himself well and knows almost everything about this building. He doesn't know about this room thanks to yours truly, no one does. I'll stay with you don't worry"

"And how long will that be?"

"As soon as he's dead" I looked away from him and to the king sized bed.

"So we get to play house for a while?" I tried changing the mood, he stifled a smile but nodded, "would you care to.." I nodded towards the bed, he smirked.

"Only if we play a game, I'm bored"

"You do love your games, what will it be then?"

"Are you familiar with the blindfold game?" He asked, I shook my head, "I get a bunch of objects while you're blindfolded and either touch you with them or put it," he paused and stroked my cheek and touched my lips, "somewhere, and you try to guess what is" I tried to not smile, this could either go really well or not at all.

"Okay. Let's play"

*

That's what the next few days consisted of. Sex, deep conversation, occasional 'can they get the rubbish in the bin from metres away?' shooting, dancing to music, playing said music, cooking, cleaning. It really had started to feel as if this was my new home, but I was getting bored and when I'm bored I get irritable.

It had been 2 weeks and still no word of Ivan's or Derek's death. Jim said his best men were on the case. It made me giggle because it's the total opposite of what a case should be, yes they're searching for a man but they're also planning to kill him.

"What are you reading?" He asked. I rolled my eyes trying not to snap at him. Being with the same person constantly for more than 7 days? I can't do it, I need my space.

"Picture of Dorian Gray" I put my book down once he sat with me.

"I remember reading that when I was young" he messed up my hair, "Wilde sure was gay"

"It's so obvious" I agreed, "the novel would have turned out differently if Dorian hadn't been so naive"

"Obviously, he seems as put together as most people out there. By which I mean he was a total mess at times. Shallow, self-centred, killing with their own hands"

"I blame Harry" I bluntly told him.

"What? Harry was just an echo of what Dorian could have been. Yes, he definitely influenced Dorian but people have to be held accountable for their own actions"

"True," I put down the book and turned to him, "you know I can't stay in here forever" I stated.

"Nor can I"

We sat in silence for a good moment. I took in the skyline, it was sunset. It reminded me of freedom, the freedom I felt that was taken from me the minute I decided to get involved with Jim Moriarty. He was twirling my hair between his fingers while looking at the sunset with me.  
Our faces both showed apathy, what's the point of a window if you're not allowed to venture out into the world? 

We were both expressionless. I felt emptier and found less joy in things I used to love.  
Jim would leave every now and again to work and bring me the paper and more books. This occupied some of my time along with the television and cooking and my attempts to exercise. I wasn't allowed any mobile phones or computers just incase Ivan would find my IP address. 

I could feel myself slipping deeper and deeper into this unknown darkness. Of course, I'd act fine with Jim, but when I was alone I'd often just stare at a wall or cry. It's like I can't feel anything but I feel everything all at once. I'm not confused, well I am..I suppose. I don't feel like myself anymore, I couldn't sleep very much or eat anything that was rich. I lived on cheese and crackers for a good few weeks.

That's who I turned into over the next few weeks. No contact with anyone except Moriarty. He could leave whenever he wanted, I soon realised I really was held against my will. I found that my barriers became limited each day, eventually leading to me not being out of the room. Yes, it was an exquisite space but it's not home. I need intimacy and not sex, I just need a hug from my gran, a sly annoying comment from Sherlock and a nice cup of tea with John. I constantly feel cold even though the atmosphere is perfectly fine. I'm alone almost all day now, at first Jim stayed because he wanted to make sure I was alright but then his appearance was scarce. Whenever he'd open the door I'd hide behind the kitchen counter thinking someone had broken in, usually he gives a special knock but sometimes he forgets.

I've been in here for almost 3 months now. I was staring at the ceiling when Moriarty entered.

"Evening" he put his keys down on the kitchen counter.

"Is it?" I replied. I stuck my head up and noticed the darkening skyline outside, "oh"

"So," he started and sat next to me, "we got him" I jumped up. My mood instantly changed, I was curious so I sat straight and let him talk. In these past few months if there's anything I knew about my Master of Crime is that I always let him finish his sentences, otherwise he gets a bit angry.

"One of my guys found him travelling around Croatia, we've targeted him," he brought out his phone and showed a point of view shot of what seemed to be a sniper, "all that happens now is the shot"

This was disturbing, he's making me watch someone die. I could feel his eyes on me, testing my reaction. My mouth was dry, my eyes wouldn't close, my heart raced, come on. Come on!

"Making shot in 3...2..1" the sniper made a perfect shot through the man's left temple. My breath got caught in my throat but I didn't move. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I swallowed the gulp in my throat. I'm free. I'm finally free. A tear wept out of my right eye, Moriarty wiped it away.

"You're safe for now," he said. I head turned and I frowned in confusion.

"For now?" I asked, my voice was soft and weak. He stroked my face with his cold index finger, it sent chills down my spine. I loved it. It's like this man was made of ice, right down to the core, why was it so engaging?

"Sweetie I don't know if Ivan had connections with any of my...associates or ex-associates," he started. He saw my expression change and made deep eye contact with me, "I need you to stay here with me for a little longer, can you do that? For me?" He asked nicely. He even cupped my face, that ice cold hand was somewhat comforting, I smiled with my lips sealed.

"Can I get in contact with my gran?" I asked, it was a risky question. Every time I asked him about my family he kept silent or rolled his eyes and said 'soon'. He contained his anger around me, something I appreciated.

Moriarty sighed once again and let go of me, "I suppose you can make a call, let her know you're not dead in a ditch and that you're completely safe" he passed me his phone and walked to the kitchen. I was shocked, I didn't know what to do. He's actually trusting me with his phone. I sat there dumbfounded and suddenly forgetting how to use a smartphone.

I haven't held one in months, it's weird and wonderful and...weird. I dialled my grans home phone. It ran only twice before someone picked up.

"Hello, Hudson residence" she picked up. I was welling up, I couldn't find my voice, "hello?"

"Gran" I whispered and held my tears. I heard her gasp and even begin tearing up.

"Charlotte? Charlotte is this you?" It sounded like she was jogging out of the room. Probably racing to Sherlock.

"Yes," I was a mess. I missed her so much, she's such a fragile woman she shouldn't be on her own. "Gran, listen"

"Where are you? I've been worried sick I thought you were dead!" Yep, the guilt comes now, I ran away from home when I was 7 because I was upset that my Mum gave away some of my toys to charity. I was so angry I packed my remaining toys and some snacks and made it to the park. Gran found me and we sat for a bit, Mum was the one who made me feel like I should be ashamed. I knew it was stupid but I was 7, come on.

"I'm fine. Please don't be worried about me, I'm...safe. I've always been safe," that was hard for me to get out because lately I truly haven't felt secure in this room.

"Sherlock!" I heard her call, "Sherlock!"

"Gran. Don't call him," I saw Moriarty turn his head and walk over to me. He grabbed the phone from me and put it on speaker.

"It's Charlotte! It's her on the phone" we heard her say. There was a little bit of weird noise, Sherlock most have snatched the phone.

"Charlotte, are you in danger?" He must know I'm in trouble. Jim didn't reply, he looked to me then to the phone as if to say 'talk'.

"I-I'm fine. I'm just staying a bit longer just in case, but he's caught. Jim got him" I tried keeping vague about the situation just in case Grandma was listening in.

"Jim?" I heard Gran say in the background.

"Yes, your granddaughter is in the company of the notorious James Moriarty" Sherlock spoke.

"Notorious? Oh don't make me blush Mr Holmes" Moriarty made a goofy face, I smiled. He was funny at times.

"If you hurt her-"

"Hurt her? What in the seven hell's would make you think that I would be nothing but a gentleman to Miss Hudson here? Charlotte, have I ever harmed you in the last few months?" I shook my head, he tilted the mic to me.

"Oh, no. Of course not" I spoke the truth. It was silent.

"You see? Our little-my little girl is fine Sherlock" Moriarty clicked his tongue at the end of Sherlock's name.

"Bring her back" I swear I heard him say.

"What was that?" Moriarty asked. He had this smug look on his face.

"Bring. Her. Back. She belongs home, for the sake of her psychological state and Mrs Hudson's little time left on this earth" Sherlock said, I heard my gran slap his arm.

"I'm not holding her against her will Sherlock, Charlotte is an adult and happens to be in a stable relationship with a very successful businessman. I think her choice to stay with me in an unknown location for a while is perfectly reasonable given the circumstances don't you think?" He winked at me.

"My psychological state is fine by the way" I added, Moriarty smiled at me, like he was proud, it made me feel proud too. I grinned back.

"Charlotte you're a smart girl. It has been long enough now for Stockh-"

"Sorry Sherly gotta go byeee" Moriarty sang and hung up. He did his cute goofy face and gifted me with a kiss, "good girl" he told me, I smiled.

*

I walked out of that room and took in a deep breath. I was finally outside, it was changing into summer, the spring air filled my lungs with such joy and peace. I felt like I could use all my senses and enjoy it. Within the room everything was white and there were no pleasant fragrances. But here in Jim's garden I could see, feel and smell the freshly cut grass. I felt overstimulated but I loved it, although I did have to venture inside once it got too late.

This is the first time in months I've been in Jim's room and kitchen and living and dining areas and the first time I set foot in his yard. The grin didn't escape my face.

I stayed with Jim for another month before seeing my home again. I felt...indifferent. Walking into that dark hallway didn't feel right at first but I dismissed that nagging feeling telling me to run back to Jim. I needed to let Gran know I was alright and then return to normal life. That's what Jim said I should do but what is normal now? I won't have that same routine of doing crosswords everyday shall I? Oh how they bore me. At least Jim said I could stay whenever I want, I might take advantage of that since he has a job for me soon.

"Charlie!" Gran yelped, dropped what seemed to be a casserole and ran over to embrace me. I shunned away at first, trying to get comfy but I patted her back and kept quiet.

"It's been so long. So long!" She hit me, I laughed, "why are you laughing?" She cried. I shrugged and apologised.

"I'm sorry. I had to stay with Jim while I was being hunted by this lunatic. It was the safest place for me Gran I hope you can understand" I hugged her again just to calm her, "shall I be mother?" I winked. She nodded and I got started on making her a tea.

"Sherlock will be over the moon you're back" she commented, I frowned, where did that come from?

"Sherlock Holmes is only ever happy when there's a serial killer on the loose," I said back.

"Charlotte!" Gran warned. I smiled back politely, "so what did you do for 4 months? Could it have killed you to make more than one phone call?" She complained. I twiddled my thumbs and fidgeted for a moment before answering.

"Um, mainly just kept myself occupied in a house and I wasn't allowed any telecommunications until Derek- I mean Ivan, was terminated" she stared at me with something in her eye, pity? Curiosity?

"What happened darling?" She whispered.

"What are you talking about? I just told you I kept myself-"

"No. Not what you did, what he did. You're different. You hold yourself up as if you're okay but I can see it in your eyes that you're needing a cry, a companion...something to escape from" she stopped, I blinked slowly. Jim didn't do anything, he's perfectly innocent and that personal attack not only offends me but offends my relationship with him, "what did he do darling? Tell me it's alright, I'm your grandmother" she wiped a tear that I didn't know I had rolled down my cheek. I jumped up and put my hands out in front of me as if to say back away.

"Nothing! He didn't do anything to harm me! He's good to me, very very good to me" I back away with every sentence.

"Why are you defending him, love? He kept you. He wouldn't let you out" she stood up and began closer to me, my heart raced and my breaths deepened.

"I could leave whenever I wanted"

"So why didn't you come and visit?" This is freaking me out she's walking over to me like a zombie.

"Because it was dangerous to leave the room because Ivan was after me for so long-" I broke down in her arms, "Jim killed him, he made me watch" I struggled to get the words out over my sobbing.

"Mrs Hudson would you mind putting on some- Charlotte" Sherlock came and helped Gran lift me. He had a strong hold on me which made me feel sick so I pushed him away.

"No, don't touch. You mustn't touch, Jim wouldn't like it. He gets jealous easy" I whispered and shook my head. I sat down at the dining table. He stood by me then sat opposite. I could feel his studious gaze.

"How long have you been inside Charlotte?" His voice was soft, I frowned even more. I didn't bother looking at him just in case Jim saw me conferring with him.

"I'm not allowed to talk to you" I whispered and shut all the curtains in the kitchen and living area. I ran to my room and did the same, " he's watching" I mouthed to Sherlock.

Sherlock stayed stoic but I saw him gulp, his lack of eye contact could tell that he was bothered and angry.  
"Well, she clearly has Stockholm Syndrome so it will take her a while to get back to normal but other than that she's fine Mrs Hudson" Sherlock began walking out.

"I don't have Stockholm Syndrome, you pleb. Jim and I have a very special relationship that you couldn't understand or comprehend because you've only ever cared for 2 people in your life!" I snapped. Why is everyone attacking Jim? He didn't do anything wrong! He kept me safe, I owe him my life.

Sherlock turned, "Do you love him?"

"Why does that matter?" I asked, my eyes darted around the room.

"Charlotte. You need to stay home. Don't work for him anymore"

"I'm an adult you can't tell me what to do" I replied, totally ignoring him now. I did happen to hear him mutter something to Gran his way out but I couldn't decipher it.

Gran went to the kitchen and made a phone call, "Hello Mycroft."

No.

 


	3. X Marks the Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of dead silence from Moriarty, Charlotte decides to move on.  
> Of course, Moriarty isn't done with her and decides to interrupt her happines with Tom.  
> Charlotte also has a bit of an identity crisis when she witnesses a murder.

"Would you say that you feel distant from your peers? Sort of...lonely?" The man in the burgundy sweater asked. I had this massive itch on my buttcrack but this therapist was really attractive so I readjusted myself in my seat to see if the itch would go, sort of.

"Uhm. Well, I've never really had a lot of people to connect with on a..." I coughed, "personal level," I hope he noticed these hints. It wasn't my idea to see a psych, but apparently, my behaviour has changed and it's an inconvenience to my grandmother. At first, I was difficult and went through a few doctors before landing Thomas. Once I saw him I knew he'd get through to me. Or into me, whatever suits.

It's been quite a while since I've seen Monsieur Moriarty, 3 months 1 week and 3 days to be precise. I don't feel very safe without him but I know he's always watching. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to me.  
But I was getting quite...hungry. Hungry for someone to touch just for one night. Jim ignored my calls so I'll have to hunt on my own.

I've only had 6 sessions with Thomas, all we do is chat. There were many times I've wanted to just jump on him and ride all the way through Pleasuretown but I restrained myself. Today I might not though. I licked my lips as I pulled my finger away from my mouth and looked to him as he called my name.

"Hmm? Sorry, I tend to space out a lot recently," I apologised and looked down.

"Is there any reason? Any change in your circumstances?" He asked. I leaned and smiled. My cleavage would be visible because of the dress I was wearing, just a simple sundress that hung loosely around my bust.

"I think I've been...frustrated," I blinked and made it obvious to make my eyes flutter. He readjusted in his seat, clearly flustered.

"H-how do you mean?" He struggled to get out. I fiddled with my pendant necklace. The one Mycroft gave to me; Jim took out the bug and carved his initials on the inside. I remember when he gave it to me during our time together.

 _To remember me by_ , he said.

I didn't understand at the time but surely this is what he meant. He didn't want me as his girlfriend - he's not that kind of man. I was just in danger and he probably just needs me alive to really get to Sherlock.

"Well. I'm not exactly eye candy-" he scoffed.

"Sorry, that was completely unprofessional...continue," he waved. I hid my grin. He was very handsome; tall, deep blue eyes and dusty blond hair, I could tell he was muscular through his shirts. He had an amazing sense of style and a sexy scent. How could I resist?

"Um, I don't exactly attract a lot of male attention. Or if I do, they don't do anything about it and I'm left stuck at home with dreaming about doctor-patient scenarios," I rushed. I made it look like I haven't slept with someone in 20 years. I breathed deeply, "sorry. Too much information," I commented, looking down in shame.

"It's alright Charlotte. You're just yearning for affection, it's perfectly normal," he took his glasses off. I could see him pushing the table separating us, to the side. He touched my knee softly, "you're a beautiful girl. You really are, inside and out. In all of our time together I've noticed you struggle with your appearance and some days you wear makeup, some days you don't, who cares? You really are magnificent," he sat next to me on the big chair and gave me a hug, "tell me more about your potential partner, does he or she appear in these dreams?"

"Well. He's very handsome, he's a doctor that I see very often in my dreams. It often starts out the same with me talking," I paused. He was looking at me intently, I checked him out, "he usually makes the first move and the sex is just mind blo-" he did it! He kissed me, and it wasn't a soft one. It was so hot and full of passion, he grabbed my waist and pulled me onto him.  
He told me to keep talking, telling him more about my fantasies.

"We always do it on the desk while you tug at my hair," I flicked my pony tail to my back and got down. The straps of my dress were already down so I got up and pulled the dress down all the way.

"Fuck" he whispered. He had a lustful spark in his eyes. I undid his belt and pulled out his member. I licked it from base to tip like an ice cream, I saw his head tilt back and he shook his head. His mouth opened and he shoved my head down further once I started sucking. I moaned and he moaned, actually, he growled a bit. Before he could finish I got up and pulled him to his desk, where I leaned over and spread my legs. He took his shirt off and twirled my hair around his wrist.

I sighed and giggled with pleasure when he entered. It was magnificent, not as exciting as Jim but he had a better-toned body.  
After a good hour of great sex, I had to leave because my session was up.

"Charlotte," Thomas called to me as I opened the door, I looked back to him doing his belt up, "see you next week," he winked.

*

"How was your session love?" My gran asked.

"Good. I think it went really good, really opened up," I smiled, inwardly laughing at my own inside joke. Someone knocked at our door, not just the front but actually our door. My Gran and I answered it together, it was Lestrade.  
"Greg!" I grinned.

"Charlotte, Mrs Hudson, can I come in?" He asked so I let him through. Grandma made some tea.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. He adjusted himself in the seat then cleared his throat.

"We uh, we need your help actually. Sherlock's on the stuff again and no one is really getting through to him. Not even John," oh no. I didn't know Sherlock was back on it. I didn't reply for a while until the tea was ready.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"John's with him in a house a few minutes away," he responded. I scratched my neck. I don't know why, but I felt distant from Holmes and basically everyone ever since I came back. There were plenty of times where I was invited over to either have a coffee or give advice on a case, but I never accepted. I never really wanted to go over, so I just stayed at home. I felt comfort in isolation now and any trouble just caused me to lock myself up. Which is why this situation has me feeling uncomfortable because this is the first time in a while that I really want to help, that I need to help.

"Let's go," I got up and followed Lestrade out to the car.

*

We pulled up to a shoddy looking building. Water damage and mould were everywhere. There was a pungent smell as we approached the building.  
"Stay behind me," I used Lestrade as a guide and kept away from some of the poor souls lying down on the cold floor. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying. The state that these people are in, they need support, not punishment.

Lestrade squatted in front of a man, oh my goodness don't tell me that's Sherlock. I went to the other side of the man I hardly recognized. There's no glint of excitement in his eye, no smug smile, no Sherlock. I slapped his face.

"Sherlock," I called, "Sherlock!" I repeated once he didn't respond.  
He opened his eyes properly, he recognised me and smiled.

"Charlie? What are you doing here?" He asked. He sat up and leaned against the wall.

"What are you doing here? Why are you here?" I emphasised 'you' and pointed to his chest. It took him a while to respond.

"Okay you're coming with us," Lestrade tried picking him up but Sherlock wouldn't have it.

"Stop it, George! You're blowing my cover, I'm doing research,"

"Studying how to rot away in a building that smells like faeces? We're taking you home," I grabbed his arm and tried dragging him but he was stubborn. After a few seconds of using all my strength to get him up, I gave up and wept a little. Greg gave me a hug and began to escort me out but I refused.

"No," I got out my phone and took a picture, "you see this? You may not understand people's feelings Mr.Holmes but you understand the importance of paying your rent. Today's standards of living are rising and I might just email this picture to all the important news networks. Public humiliation equals no more jobs equals no more money, who's going to want to employ a junkie?" I tried to see if he reacted. He glanced at me but said nothing. I put my phone away.

"You're aware of my affiliation, correct?" I asked. I could sense he felt guilty now, he knows of my brother being addicted to heroin a short while ago. He still didn't speak, so I sat and listened.  
"What's the case, Mr Holmes?" I looked down but could sense his smile.

"Are you seeing someone new?" he asked. I was confused, how could he tell? "You smell different and have dry sweat on you, also your hair is messy" he scruffed up my hair, "come come," that bastard hopped up. We walked around for a while before finding someone that looked dead...I think she was.

"What's this?" Greg asked. John went to the woman with greasy hair sitting in the corner and checked her pulse.

"Deceased," he said after clearing his throat. Sherlock nodded over to another young woman across the room and John repeated his process.

"Dead," he said again, this time a little more freaked out. I was gripping Sherlock's arm, he continued to point out that every woman in the room was dead.

"Sherlock, what's going on?" I asked as Lestrade left to call forensics.

"Blonde women, under the age of 35, no signs of heroin addiction but how did they die?"

"Poisoned?" I guessed.

"Then what are they doing here? Why were they killed? 10 pounds says that you'll find little to no traces of H in their system," he bet. I gave a disappointed look, he apologised insincerely.

"The killer was recreating something personal to them. Dumping these girls here is just an easy thing to do," John answered.

"What else?" Sherlock asked John but kept looking at me, making me a bit uncomfortable.  
"Go on, what else?" Sherlock kneeled beside one of the girls. John and I joined him. Sherlock gave us the typical 'oh my god you guys are idiots' look. "There's a mark on all of them. Once the killer has poisoned them, he or she marks a small black cross the woman's ring finger" we stayed silent, waiting for him to reveal his master plan, "these women were or are obviously married or engaged, the killer could be preparing for their ideal murder for a mother or step-mother or mistress. We'll have to wait for the lab results."

So a few days pass and things seem relatively normal for the occupants of 221b. I was in John's living room when they received a parcel from Molly. She slapped Sherlock and told him to piss off, so he's not allowed at the university for a while.  
John examined the results.

"Did they trace the poison?" I asked John, his brow furrowed.

"Um...the women died of malnourishment," he told me.

"What? How?" I took the file, very low Vitamin C levels, "scurvy? How can a 21st- sorry, how can multiple 21st-century women die of scurvy?"

"Maybe they were taken?" John suggested.

"No!" Sherlock called from the kitchen, "I have all their files and have sorted the similarities"

"Normal men just touch themselves when they're alone," I made fun, John spat his tea not expecting a crude joke from me.

"Your new lover has really affected you, I wonder how Moriarty feels about it," Sherlock chimed back.

"Back to the case," John interrupted before I could retort.

"Right. As you know all women under the age of 35, blonde hair- at least that's what we thought. 7 of the 15 women had had their hair dyed blonde within the previous months leading up to their demise. What else has connected these women are the marriages, all in 2008, all divorced due to the women cheating on their husbands"

"So this supports your matricide connection?" I asked.

"On the ball lately, sex really doesn't distract you does it?" where were these shots coming from? "No, I'm not totally confident on that anymore. It could be two ways, the original thought or a man is the murderer...how can you not get this? The man that the woman cheated with!"

"Why would one man date multiple women at one time?" John asked. I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Oh sweetie, you'll catch up soon," I said as I rubbed his back, "it does seem weird that there are so many victims, the killer would have to have very good organising skills and plan this months- maybe years in advance. Scurvy doesn't happen overnight, you're dealing with a mastermind."

"Are you underestimating me?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course not, you've faced tougher challenges," they both stared at me like I had a motive.

"John, can you help me? I'm not an expert at picking up sarcasm so quickly."

"I think she's sincere." John came closer and poked my face.

"Okay, I'm going home." 

*

It was Thursday afternoon and I was on the bus to my 3rd therapy appointment after having relations with Thomas. We haven't had it since, mainly because I think about all the people that have sat on that couch and get creeped out by the germs but we have made out once or twice. And being the therapist that he is, he wanted to talk about it. It made me wonder if I was breaching a code or if he was writing a paper about me.

"I promise I'm not writing a paper on you," he chuckled, "it's just that our relationship hasn't really progressed and I have to make a decision soon about whether or not I want to be your therapist anymore," I frowned a little, am I ready for a relationship? Tom tells me about himself quite a bit but he's got to be nearing 40, well I guess he's around James and Sherlock's age. "I don't think I can be your therapist anymore Charlie."

I nodded, "I understand. We were breaking rules," that made it so damn hot though. I was about to stand but he put his hand on my thigh.

"Charlie, I can't be treating you because I'm obviously attracted to you and it's getting hard to assess you... when all I think about...is doing things to you," his hand went to my inner thigh but I nonchalantly removed it.

"How about we go on an actual date? And do those things in an actual bed," I stood up.

He smiled, "That sounds very healthy, I'll see you for lunch on Saturday?"  
I nodded yes and left. I can't believe someone actually wants to date me. I couldn't wipe the grin off my face until I got home that is.  
Sherlock continued to insult me in small ways, all surrounding the subject of my sex life.

"So when are we going to meet him?" Sherlock asked. I smiled at him. Thinking that he can get in my head. I survived months with James Moriarty, I can survive a couple of rude comments and him trying to rile me up.

"Um, I guess...never. Is that okay with you? His schedule is just so busy," I teased, Sherlock smiled and picked up his violin.

"You might want to leave, I'm expecting...a friend," Sherlock said.

"Your brother doesn't count," I responded as I checked a text from Tom.

_I'll be there in 2_ _x_  
_T_

"Funny," he commented, "your date is here," he told me while looking outside the window.

"I'll see you later."

"Charlie!" Sherlock called out, "stay safe."

...

 _2 months late_ r

"Come on Sherlock, drink your tea before it gets cold," Grandma told our tenant. He couldn't stop acting so weird around Tom, he kept staring at him as if he was studying him. Which I knew he was.

"I can always make another Mrs Hudson. No need to make the atmosphere so tense," Sherlock responded. I scoffed.

"Come on, we'd better go," I grabbed Tom's hand.

"Okay. A pleasure to see you again Sherlock."

"You don't have to be polite, he picks up on it," I told him, "bye Sherlock," he didn't respond.

"He's an interesting fellow," Tom commented.

"I think he's trying to find something wrong with you."

"Why?"

"In case we break up. He wants to find the answer before anyone else does. He hasn't been doing too good in his cases lately."

"Yeah, you told me about the 'Pirate' case," he used quote marks. 

"It was the first thing I thought of. Scurvy? X spots on the skin? What else does that make you think of?" I tried explaining myself. He laughed and gave me a kiss. Walking down the street, we passed a familiar face. A face I haven't seen in months, a face I dreaded to see. I made eye contact with the devil in the Westwood suit and I froze. He grinned and stopped us. Hardly noticing me, only Tom.

"Tommy Boy! How are ya!?" That beautiful Irish man greeted Tom. What is he doing? Tom let go of my hand and hugged Moriarty. James winked at me during the hug. My reaction was...I didn't even know my reaction, I was so shocked.

"Jim! I'm good. I'm good, oh you haven't met Charlotte have you? Sweetie, this is Jim, a colleague of mine, we've only recently started talking," Tom 'introduced' us. We shook hands, something inside of me wanted to jump into his arms and never let him go, but the other part wanted me to run.

"Hi, I've heard so much about you," Jim grabbed my palm win both hands and rubbed it, something he uses to do to calm me down. Tears began to flood my ducts and I had to swallow them down. The fake smile on my face subsided for a fraction of a second. I felt like he was trying to get a message to me...he's been watching me. Even after all this time.

"It's nice to be meeting you," it really was. But I wasn't going to let him back into my life now was I? Am I? I'm really happy with Tom. Why is James here now?! Why can't he just leave me alone?! What's his end game?

Play this right, Charlie. It's the only way you'll survive.

"Charlotte and I were just heading to a reservation, would you like to join us for dinner?" No Tom, what are you doing?

"Oh I wouldn't want to impose," James looked to me, I kept my eyes hollow and I even sensed his mood change. He knows I'm not going to let him torture me.

"You won't be imposing. It'd be a pleasure," I smiled gently. My tone sounded quite threatening though.

"Then I'd love to," he didn't want to be the first to break eye contact. So I did with a smirk, telling him I didn't care about power.

..

I kept my left arm under the table near Toms inner thigh. James tried playing footsie with me. The two mainly talked about 'work'.

"Oh, so you were seeing each other as patient/doctor before dating? I see, I see" James chewed his chicken.

"Yes, we stopped our professional relationship once those feelings raised you to know? Avoid a lawsuit," Tom responded.

"Well Charlotte, if you're looking for another doctor I can give you my card," James reached into his pocket. I took the card and thanked him, but crushed it in my pocket, "not a problem. Hopefully, you don't fall for me too" he joked, Tom shook his head and laughed along. As did I to be polite, James had reached his free arm under the table to touch my knee. The table was small and circular so it was no hassle for him to try something on me.

"Jim is fantastic. I trust him with my life. Charlotte takes a few sessions to open up so you gotta commit," Tom told James. Trust James Moriarty with your life? Yeah right.

"Tell you what, I'll get your number off Tommy and give you a call tomorrow. We can catch up for a chat alright?"

"Sounds good," I smiled.

..

_Miss me? xx_  
_JM_

He texted me during breakfast the next day, I almost choked on my eggs. I thought yesterday was a dream.

_Love, you have to cooperate if you want your relationship with Thomas to have a happy ending x_  
_JM_

What the hell do I say? Yes? I miss the man who abused me? I still love you James, please take me back so I can be your slave forever!  
No way, but I don't want him harming Tom, it's not fair.

_What time do you want to meet?_  
_CH_

_Good girl. How about lunch at mine? x_  
_JM_

Should I put a kiss? Do I have to play this game?

_See you then x_  
_CH_

..

Approaching those double doors made my palms sweat. I pressed the doorbell and was taken to the parlour.

"Kitten! Welcome back," he kissed me on the lips. It was just a peck but it brought back so many memories. Act normal Charlie, just act normal and don't crack.

"You've redecorated," I commented as I sat on the white couch. Nothing in the house has changed but he has. He has a new number one girl on standby. He smiled, it was smug but I could tell he was embarrassed.

"You've got a good eye. So how have you been?" He sat next to me and spoke like an old friend catching up on some gossip. I smiled, appreciating seeing him alive.

"I've been going very well. Why am I here?" I asked. The mood changed from friendly to a bit solemn. He stopped smiling.

"You've...forgotten about me" oh my goodness. Do I have the upper hand? Had I had the upper hand for months? "To be honest. I'm a little disappointed in you," he was being playful, touching my thigh. "I thought you would crack, but you didn't. I thought you were waiting for me to return, but you didn't," his squeeze got tighter. I noticed but didn't react. His jaw clenched. I put one hand to his cheek and cupped it. He leaned in for a kiss so I gently kissed his cheek.

"I don't need you anymore, you set me free so I took that freedom. I'll admit I was lost for a while, but you didn't ruin me that much James. Not as much as Barbie over there. Getting mad at one little kiss," he peered over to the girl in the corner, her jaw tensed and she didn't make eye contact.

"Barbie!" He called her over, she came straight away like a puppy, "are you jealous of the beautiful Charlotte here kissing me?" He reached into his pocket, I stopped him from pulling out the gun.

"Some feeble minded people are still afraid of death so let them suffer," I stroked his face. His facade went, I only saw James now. He's realised something. I don't know what. But I stopped him from killing that girl.

"Who the hell do you think you are?! Jim is mine-" the pistol was silent and cold. He got her in the head so she didn't suffer. I've seen a lot of shit that Moriarty has done, this is one of the few times he's gotten his hands dirty. I sucked a bit of lettuce from my teeth, trying to look as if nothing had happened.

"I tried," I told the lifeless body on the floor.

"Is it just me or did you get sexier?" Jim commented. We maintained eye contact so I smiled lazily.

"I have to go. I have a date," I got up slowly, trying not to react to the dead girl on the floor.

"Tell Tom I said hi! I'll see you next week, Kitten!" 

...

A week passed and Sherlock was getting antsy, so was I but I wasn't addicted to cigarettes or other substances. It was a Friday morning, like early morning, when he burst into my bedroom yelling that he'd made a break in the case.

"Get out," I wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

"Come on Charlie!" He lifted me up and dragged me upstairs.

"Sherlock, it's 4 am, can it wait?"

"Can murder wait?!" Why is he yelling? "Come come, you have to see this!" He spoke all giddy like when a child receives a lolly.

I decided not to fight him. I was too tired. When I arrived at the top of the stairs John was there with coffee, "thank you."

"Okay," Sherlock got ready for his presentation, "the pirate, he marks his victims with an x on the ring finger. All victims were women married or divorced. The lab report said that these women died of scurvy, but how could that be possible? These women were active, exercised every day...all belonged to the same gym," he used, expecting us to carry on his thought.

"Okay. Go on," John waved his hand.

"They ALL belonged to the same gym, that's what they had in common. They had the same personal trainer, Erin Normovski. She suggested a certain diet that would help the women lose weight quickly, this involved cutting down on calories so these women practically starved themselves to malnourishment."

"So this Erin Noromov-"

"Normovski" he interrupted.

"Right, she's the killer. Have you told Lestrade?" I asked. Sherlock nodded and smiled. He was happy for a win, I have to admit, these past few months have been heavy on him. It seems like Scotland Yard is just coming to him with every case they've got.

"Then why are we awake?!" John got up and went back to his bedroom.  
Sherlock looked dumbfounded, his tone changed from happy to guilty. I gave him a hug that he didn't return.

"Good job Sherl" I kissed his cheek and went to bed.

When I got back, I noticed I had a text.

_A kiss for Shelly? I don't think I like that :/ xx_

Why is he still watching me? Does he really want me back? A sparkle of hope shined in my eyes. There was something about Mr Moriarty that sent me into a trance, but nothing hypnotic. It was something that made me feel equally alive as I felt brain dead. I didn't care when that girl got shot 2 feet away from me. I saw it, I went home and continued on with my day. It didn't bother me in the slightest. I guess James did affect me in a huge way, I'm not myself anymore and Sherlock has obviously noticed, he's just too obsessed with himself to care. I sent back a text before drifting off into my slumber, would I say something flirty? No, that would make me feel guilty and just encourage Jim to continue talking to me.

_Go to sleep_

 


	4. Tommy Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After going on a fake date with Sherlock, Charlotte receives a threatening text and contacts the only person she knows will protect her

A few weeks had passed since my break up with Tom. I didn't feel like I loved him as much as he loved me. I didn't love him at all really, I mainly just kept him around for easy access. He knew this, of course, he just hoped I'd grow to love him.

As for my relationship with Moriarty, it hasn't exactly gone anywhere. I half-hoped he'd ring me every day for four weeks but that would just make him...normal. The other part of me, the dark part, sort of hoped he'd..get rid of Tom. Or break us up, whichever, to prove that he cared for me. Unless, of course, he cared for me so much that he just wanted me to be happy. No, he wouldn't do that, if he wanted me, he'd have me. That I know for a fact.

"You're different again" Sherlock stated. I was just trying to eat my crisps and play a game on my phone.

"Stop noticing me" I replied. He kept commenting on my appearance and personality changes.

"Did you break up with...Tyler?"

"Tom. Yes"

"That's a shame, I was quite fond of him" he stole one of my crisps and sat down in the seat in front of me, "so since your courtship has ceased with...Tom," he paused. I stopped what I was doing and listened in, this has got to be good if it's making him nervous, "I'd like you to help me with something"

"What's that then?"

"I need you to accompany me on...a mission"

"A mission?" What is he talking about? I'm not a super spy.

"Yes. I need you to-um, be my date" oh.

"Date for what?" I leaned in. Will it be another dance?

"I may have told Mycroft that I have a...girlfriend" what am I hearing right now?

"Why would you lie to your brother? He always finds things out with his little birds. Was he teasing you about John again?"

"He came over for a visit and said I needed a female companion. He pestered me as he does and it got to me" Sherlock explained slowly, trying to find the right words.

"Okay" I responded.

"Okay?"

"Okay" I shrugged, "are we going out with Mycroft to dinner?"

"Yes. Tonight, wear something...sparkly" Sherlock hopped up and skipped to his room.  
My phone vibrated.

_A date with Holmes? You're really testing me, kitten. I may join you tonight if I feel you two get a bit close xx_

I didn't reply. Instead, I  went downstairs and got ready for my big date.

...

"Charlotte, a pleasure to see you again" Mycroft nodded to me, he hasn't ever touched me or anyone I think.

"Hello Mycroft. Sherlock tells me you don't believe he has a female companion" I used air quotes. This restaurant was fancy as shit. I felt a little out of place, I can't imagine how Sherlock feels given the state of his flat.

Mycroft took a deep breath and smiled, "Well, who can blame me? I have to say, I am still quite sceptical. I am aware of your close friendship, it wouldn't surprise me if he had asked you to be here tonight as a favour to him" I chuckled at his accurate statement then put a hand on Sherlock's lap.

"It's quite new, forgive us for not making out right in front of you" I replied.

"That's quite alright dear" 

"SO!" Sherlock intervened, "why have you summoned me?"

"I haven't summoned you, little brother, I am just enjoying my time with you and your...girlfriend"  I grinned at how uncomfortable everything was getting. I don't know why I can't keep a straight face in these situations, one of these days it's going to get me killed, "in fact," Mycroft stood and raised a glass, "to your relationship, may it last as long as you wish"

"Very heartfelt, thank you Mycroft" I commented and took a sip of my drink. I excused myself to go to the bathroom so the boys could talk about what they really wanted to talk about.

"You look absolutely scrumptious tonight kitten, I may have to steal you again" an Irish man snuck up behind me as I was reapplying my lipstick. My blood ran cold as I had flashbacks of memories I had suppressed.

"James, this is the ladies room" I replied nonchalantly. He hugged me from behind and swayed my hips.

"Oh come on, are you not pleased to see me?" he frowned like a baby.

"I'm on a date" I started my sentence. He let go and frowned properly.

"What? With Sherlock? The asexual psychopath?"

"Sociopath" Sherlock entered, "I thought you were taking quite a while, dear" Sherlock took my hand and placed me behind him, this felt nice. I felt protected for once in a proper way, I knew Sherlock would guard me against any dangers. I caught a glimpse of Jim's fury but it disappeared. He smiled.

"Sherlock" he clicked his tongue and stepped closer, "pleasure to see you again" he didn't smile at Sherlock. And of course Mr. Holmes kept his neutral expression.

"Always an honour I'm sure," Sherlock replied, "now if you'll excuse us we have a date to get back to and if anyone sees you the restaurant will probably call security" Sherlock started walking me out of the bathroom.

"Catch you later Shelly" Jim's high pitched voice rang in my ears. When I looked back at him, he blew me a kiss and smirked. He wasn't buying our act, but he frowned when I kissed Sherlock's cheek and thanked him for getting me out of there.

"Always. Now, you're going to want to act as you've just thrown up because I'm bored and want to go home" he told me, I smiled and responded.

"Always," I laughed.

*

The boys and I were studying the box that had been delivered to Sherlock. It was placed on his seat but Grandma hadn't seen anyone enter or exit the building since we arrived back from dinner.

"I guess we should get a new security guard," John joked, I smiled but Shelly paid no attention. We focused back on the leather bound box.

"No letter, no delivery boy...how did it appear?" I ventured around the apartment to see any unlocked windows, Sherlock's bedroom, "you really don't care about material possessions? What if there was a burglar?"

"We're on the second floor," Sherlock was still crouching next to his seat, head on hands. I know he's already scanned the room and the box multiple times. He took a breath in and opened it. It was a ballerina dancing but the music was distorted and sounded eerie, even the doll was missing a hand and a foot and had it's eyes coloured in with black sharpie. It spun jaggedly along with the music, the mirror had writing on it with something red, mostly likely lipstick. All that was written there was "ITCH". The whole scene made me a bit queasy.

"My god that's disturbing," John frowned, "what does itch mean? A new serial killer telling Sherlock he's on the loose?"

"Wrong again John..." we waited for him to explain himself. He picked up the box and ran to his room. John and I looked at each other and sighed.

"Mind palace" we spoke in unison. That was our cue for bed.

*

As I readied myself for bed I received a text.

_You looked splendid tonight my angel_

I didn't recognise the number, but it's surely Jim.

_Too bad next time you won't be able to eat your salmon_

What?

_Because you'll have a gaping hole in your neck._

My blood ran cold and I suddenly couldn't sleep alone. I turned my lamp on slowly and breathed a few deep breaths to calm myself. My eyes scanned every inch of my room as I tiptoed my way to my grandma's room; she was sound asleep with the window open. I tried controlling my breathing as I closed the door and shut the blinds. I couldn't help but think someone was watching me so I sat in the kitchen with the light on and gripped a knife, keeping an eye on every exit. I couldn't bother Sherlock, not when he's preoccupied with that box.  
There's really only one person I can sort of trust in a situation like this...at least trust to never get these texts again. My ears rang, then couldn't hear anything but my own breaths. I dialled the number Moriarty left me, it rang twice.

"Hello Charlotte," he picked up.

"Jim, I need your help. I received-" my voice was raspy and breaking, I was on the verge of crying.

"I'll have a car for you in a minute, wait outside" he hung up on me. I quickly put on a coat and slippers and waited in the foyer for a few seconds before going outside. There it was, the black sleek car. This seemed like the longest walk in history, my front door to the road. A sigh of relief escaped me as I sat down. The heater warmed me quickly and I felt slightly safer and calmer, especially because Jim's assistant offered me a thermos full of tea. I felt a little relaxed as Jim's guard guided me to the house, I almost felt tears escape my eyes as I saw Jim though. It was only 9 at night but he too was in his pajamas. A nice silk set and fluffy robe. He offered me a robe on account of the rain that soaked my coat. I gratefully accepted and after nestling in and feeling safe and relaxed. I showed him the texts, he passed it to someone.

"IP address and location, as soon as possible,"

"Yes sir" the stocky guard said. Jim sat next to me on his couch, one arm pulling me in for a hug. I enjoyed and appreciated the comfort.

"We're going to find whoever sent that to you and eliminate them immediately" he stared into my eyes, his sharp jaw was tense and his lips pursed angrily. My hand instinctively stroked his rough face. I noticed his jaw relaxed and he took a deep breath. "You're staying here tonight of course," he stood up and fiddled with his phone, "I've got some friends lurking outside your home so your gran is nice and safe, although that text doesn't seem very immediate"

"You think someone's trying to scare me?" He didn't reply, he just looked down at his phone and continued texting. I stood up and took one step towards the hallway.

"Tonight. With Sherlock. That wasn't real?" He spoke with inflection but I think he was just trying to convince himself.

"Of course not, we both know how jealous you get," I teased, he huffed some air out, laughing softly.

*

I awoke the next morning to a woman urging me down to breakfast. The whole scene in the dining looked eerie. I was used to sitting at in a small booth in my kitchen with some toast and a cup of tea in the mornings, not a proper 12 seated table with multiple breakfast dishes and a juice dispenser. I could get used it though.

"Morning, how'd you sleep?" Moriarty kissed my cheek and lead me to my seat.

"Like the dead," I responded, sitting down.

"Speaking of which. We're traced the number"

"And?" I leaned in, he hesitated answering by taking a sip of his coffee.

"Do you remember our little Hungarian friend?" His mouth stayed a straight line.

"The dead one? That I saw being shot in the head? You're jogging my memory" I lightened his mood, it worked for a second as I saw him smirk.

"Yes. Well while he was away planning his...revenge, he managed to accompany himself with some of my past...acquaintances" he spoke carefully.

"So now that he's gone, someone has stepped up and is still planning to get me?"

"I'm afraid it's more than just some _one"_

"Sometwo?"

"He's gone full suicide squad I'm afraid. But it's more than just a bunch of villains scheming together, these people have connections...my connections"

"So they know your sources? What are they trying to do? Start their own consulting agency?" I half-joked. He shrugged and sighed.

"I don't think you should go home, pet," a pause made the room stuffy.

"I can't do that...not again," I avoided looking into those enchanting eyes of his. So soft and full of..of-

"I can't let the only person I have loved just DIE," he spat, another pause. Assuming I wasn't going respond, Moriarty stood up and stormed out. 

He just said.

He just said he loved me.  
  


 


	5. The Weeping Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter sees Charlotte dealing with her feelings towards James and planning her life no matter how many obstacles get in her way.

My mind ran over the conversation of the previous night.

He said he loved me.

I should be ecstatic, right? I got the king of crime to fall in love with me without even trying. So, the question is, do I feel the same? The man I've spent countless lust-filled nights with is the very same man that kept me in his tower. Surely I don't have Stockholm Syndrome, do I? I'm smarter than that. At least I think so.

What would a life with James Moriarty look like? He seems to be well-made and neat, no one ever gets his hands on him. We could have brunch in his garden every Sunday and wild, untamed sex at a moment's notice. I could live in his mansion and have everyone do as I say, become the most powerful woman in Britain. He seemed safe to a degree, so...why don't I feel it?

The ringing of my phone brought me back to reality. John was calling.

"Hello."

"Charlotte, hi! Where the hell are you? I have your grandmother here in hysterics."

"I'm fine. I'm safe. I just received a threatening text last night from a certain ex-con. She's safe too, you all are. He's only after me."

"Well, let us help you! Where are you? I'll come and pick you up."

"John, I don't need your help. I'm perfectly protected, trust me. I won't be long, I just got spooked. I'll be back soon."

"Charlotte-" I hung up the phone and scratched my cheek.

I was still in bed even though it was midday. My eyes studied the tasteful room, you'd think royalty lived here. I didn't stay in Jim's room last night, I thought it was best to give him some space. So, I grabbed my things and grabbed a cab back home, my welcome wasn't as...welcoming as I hoped.

"Where were you?!" Grandma slapped my arm on every word then hugged me tightly.

"I'm sorry. I don't want you or anyone else getting hurt because of me."

"Love, we're Hudsons. We stay together."

"What about-"

"The women stay together," she corrected herself and brought me upstairs, I'm going to have to talk this out.

"So how long has this man been after you? I thought he was dead," John offered me my tea.

"Yeah, me too. I just know that these ominous texts scream danger," I showed them to John, Sherlock was currently in his chair, hands to face, and silently staring at the window.

"Well, can we find him?" John asked his boyfriend- I mean man-friend. Sherlock took his sweet time answering.

"Yes, of course, we can. That's not your concerning issue though is it, Charlotte?" Sherlock made eye contact with me but I cowered away. Of course, it was obvious to him, everything is.

"Not your concerning issue?" John repeated and frowned as if Sherlock was crazy, he should have learnt by now.

"Yes. Miss Hudson here has found out some distressing news," the blue-eyed man was now standing with his hands behind his back and making his way over to me. Even though he's taking his time talking, I know he's evaluated it, "shoulder cowered, smiling sometimes but ultimately frowning, eyes always off to the distance as if you're dreaming about another life...tell us what happened." Sherlock crouched down in front of me but I bit my tongue. I simply looked down to the floor, I didn't want to be the one to say. "You're pregnant."

"What?" Grandma's shocked tone caused her to grip my shoulders.

"What?" John even took a seat.

"God no!" I rose and stepped towards the exit, "you really are slipping lately."

"Where do you think you're going? You just got back?" John stormed towards me, speaking at me as if I was his child.

I couldn't stop the intrusive thoughts running through my brain of picking him up by his collar and tossing him out the window. I stepped back at my fantasy, shocked that my mind would even go there.

"You were with him, weren't you?" Sherlock's dull tone screamed disappointment. I cowered again, why do I keep doing that? I'm not this person, this coward. I don't keep secrets, I shouldn't have any shame in being in love-

Wait a minute, that can't be right.

"Gran, could you please get the jammie dodgers in our pantry?" I didn't want her to hear. She touched my shoulder as she passed me.

"So?" Sherlock asked. I waited until I heard out front door close.

"Yes."

"Oh come on Charlie-" John threw his hands in the air.

"He has a panic room, why wouldn't I call him?"

"You called him?! You've been in contact this entire time with a known criminal?!" John's lid blew. Sherlock and I had a staring competition, waiting for the doctor to calm down but after a rant about how stupid I was being Sherlock knocked his friend out. Not by a punch, of course, by chloroform.

"We have a few minutes alone now you want to actually talk." Sherlock placed a cushion under John's head and sat on the long couch.

"Sherlock Holmes interested in chit-chat...never thought I'd see the day," I joined him. The sleek dressed man lifted the arm of the sofa and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and some matches, "nice hiding spot," I commented while he lit one up. He offered the packet to me, which I took but then I crushed the little cancer causes and threw it in the hallway.

"Fair play," he nodded, "so, you're in love-"

"No," I shot him down quickly, giving myself away. We weren't facing each other, we both looked at the mirror or mantelpiece, or outside the window. Anything to avoid eye contact.

"Oh." Sherlock shook his head, I've seen this before - he's stumped, "you've achieved the impossible."

"Impossible?"

"James Moriarty: the single most important thing known to crime, has fallen in love with you."

We were facing each other now. Sherlock no longer needed his cigarette, he'd dropped it to the floor. It laid there still smoking and slowly turning into ash. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being correct once again so I simply stayed quiet, stoic, and incredibly annoying to Mr Holmes. He squinted, trying to read my features but he knew enough already. He just didn't know who I was now - who James made me. Hell, I don't even know who I am.

"What did he do to you?" It came as a whisper simply because we both heard Grandma coming up the stairs.

I got away with idle chit chat and discussing Sherlock's current case and John was still asleep by the time I went back downstairs for tea.

*

I was silent, studying the day's crossword in the kitchen when my grandmother offered some insightful wisdom.

"You know, darling, before I met your grandfather I fell in love with a man named Gideon," I put down the newspaper and focused on her. Her frail hands cupped the homemade mug I made for her when I was 6.  
I remembered working hard on it that day, wanting to be the next Michelangelo and all but of course it looked like a dying mushroom with a handle. She claimed it was her favourite, "everyone used to call him Gunner. We met at a pub in Manchester during the war. He was a real sweet talker, flirted with anything that had a heartbeat...but he always came back to me. Said I was special because I wasn't like the other girls, of course, I had no idea what he meant because look at me," she shrugged, "as plain as can be and when you're young you want to keep up with all the trends so every girl looked the same from behind- anyway," she took a breath, "where was I?"

"He said you were different," I can see how that's applicable to my situation.

"Oh right. Yes. I remember asking him what made me so special? So different from the other girls and I remember he looked down at me, eyes as blue as the sky, and he just kissed me. I was like putty in his hands. He said 'you were the only one that said no, it showed that you were smart from the get go'."

I stayed silent, letting her reminisce. She didn't have a particularly happy expression on her face, "So, then what happened? He shipped off?"

"No, he stayed. He wasn't a soldier, never got his hands dirty, stayed below a bunker for most of the time. I realised we were only together because of the power I thought I saw in him...and we broke up once I saw the power I had."

That was a punch to the gut. She knows.

"What a time to be alive," I commented whilst standing, indicating that I'm ready for bed. I kissed her on the forehead.

"Sure was, sure is," she held my hand, "just-just be careful, love." She kissed it and let go. At least she trusts me.

My phone notified me of a text when I got to my room.

_Don't give into temptation_   
_SH_

The temptation of Moriarty? Or the life he leads?

_Let's talk x_   
_JM_

A car horn beeped, that must be the temptation. Why does he always get me while I'm wearing my pyjamas? I quickly put on a jacket and shoes, sneaking my way out the front door.

_Don't worry_   
_CH_

Send to Sherlock.

For once, Jim was waiting there for me, just outside the front door. He didn't look...good. It wasn't what he was wearing, a suit as always, it was something else. It was him. He walked inside, brushing my hand as he passed. We walked silently to my bedroom, not resisting the temptation to peep up the stairs. Of course, Sherlock would be watching.

My heart rate picked up when I closed the door. I felt wrong. I felt unfinished. I felt like I needed something but I have no idea what.

"You changed your sheets," he sat and ran his hands along the bed.

"It's what us regular people do on an almost weekly basis," I joined him.

"You're not regular. You never were," he studied the four corners of the ceiling, letting his eyes trail down very slowly to the droplet covered window and finally to me.

"I am. I have a coffee every day to wake myself up, do the crossword, cook myself a meal or two and have a job - well, not so much anymore now that criminals are after me but you get the gist. You fell in love with a regular person," his jaw clenched and he glared at my blank television, "and it's killing you."

Jim stood up and slowly paced the room, "you're not regular. You can't be," he cracked the bones in his neck and hands. Then he stopped and smiled at me, sighing a bit and kneeling at my feet. "I shot a woman in the head right next to you and you didn't even flinch. A regular person would have...cried probably, I don't know."

"The only reason why I didn't was that I was in shock," that came off as too defensive, as if I haven't changed. His grin grew as he fiddled with the fleece of my pyjama pants.

"All those months that you worked for me; you knew what was happening to people. Some of them begged you to help them but you didn't. Why was that?" His cheeky grin was starting to piss me off, "you were having fun torturing people, Charlotte," why is he so attractive? What about this short Irish maniac makes me want to worship him? "You never did it directly, yet neither did I. We're the same. All this time I thought it was Sherlock and I but...he's on the side with the angels and we're simply not."

My tear ducts were about to break. What's he doing to me? What has he done to me? Why has he come here? To torture me? Make me realise that he won. He changed me and therefore I don't care about people anymore? My breathing settled down.

The moment of realisation washed quickly and turned into pure unadulterated rage.

"I'm a pawn," my hand instinctively gripped his throat. I could tell he had trouble breathing because spit dribbled down his red face. I didn't care. He was smiling still.

"You're my queen," he gurgled. He was still grinning as I tightened my grip. A red laser stung my right eyeball but I didn't let up. He fought back a little but I could tell he wanted to push me.

"Call it. Do it," I squeezed harder.

"You first."

I couldn't kill him. Not with my bare hands. So I let go. He took a moment to catch his breath then chuckle to himself.

"Ah, you had me. You had me for a second." He coughed. "That rage, kitten. That's not what regular people are capable of."

I couldn't look at him right now. I needed him to leave. I can't believe it's been about Sherlock this whole time - well I can now.

"Why ignore me for all those months?" I asked while keeping a grip on the end of the mattress. Jim was fixing his hair and suit in my mirror.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. You're smart," he winked at himself. He was back. He broke me, I didn't break him.

"Stockholm syndrome. It can't be that simple," I muttered.

"I've been told I have quite the effect on people." Jim smirked. I tried smiling back but I was dealing with so many emotions at once...perhaps I'm not all gone, "you've had quite the night," he came over and kissed the top of my head then he handed me a piece of paper, "meet me here tomorrow at 8...wear something white."

*

A casino.

The flashing lights and jingle of tokens somehow faded into the background as one of Moriarty's goons escorted me to a small chapel. A room about 5 metres wide and deep with 4 short pews encompassing the white rose covered aisle.

This surely can't be legal but it won't surprise me if Moriarty made some connections. He was standing at the opposite side of the room just in front of a white lattice. There was far too much white in here yet it wasn't at all bright.

His back was to me but he turned with a smile. That cheeky-no.

Sinister.

That's what it has been all along.

I gulped and forced a small, polite smile; Nodding hello in the process.

"So happy you could join us, my love," the devilishly handsome man spoke. He was clearly using that against me. "It would have been very unfortunate for you not to show up," he nodded to another black suited man standing by the pew closest to me.

He disappeared for a few moments but emerged later with Grandma, she was shaking and had dark fresh bruises covering her face and arms. My mouth fell open but I force my tears to stay put. That's exactly what he wants. He's chaos and he wants me to remove to him that I'm like him.

Deep breath.

I looked back at Moriarty. He was biting his bottom lip in anticipation, waiting for a stronger reaction but instead, he raised his eyebrows.

"Gee, I guess I did do a number on you," he smirked and winked at me. Don't react, just smile, "Shelly, care to join us?"

I looked around the small, almost hospital like space, Sherlock walked in cautiously as I suspected a gun was digging into his back from the large man behind him, "so glad you're here."

"Congratulations are in order," Sherlock phrased it as a statement but I know he was asking me a question. What could I say? I don't want to do this but if I don't then everyone dear to me is getting a bullet in their head.

"This was always part of the plan." Please understand me.

"Indeed. Would you care to do the honours?" Moriarty had a sparkle in his eye, I didn't know if he wanted to marry me or Sherlock.

I saw Sherlock's adam's apple bounce as he took my arm in his. He was studying the room, thinking of a way to get us out of this without dying but I knew he couldn't. All it took was one nod or one snap of the devil's fingers and we were all dead.

Sherlock walked me slowly, following the eerie bridal music. Was Moriarty trying to creep everyone out? It usually wasn't his style. And he's all about that.

Those empty brown eyes seemed to radiate darkness. I could disappear into them and never want to come out, although surely he doesn't have that power anymore. Right?

I smiled back his soft face when he took my hand. The man in the black suit and tie kissed it before nodding to the priest in front of us. He seemed concerned for my well being so I simply nodded and smiled politely.

I had to ignore my grandmother's muffled yelps and cries behind me. She was either being duct taped or comforted by Sherlock, I chose to believe the latter.

"Let's begin," the priest cleared his throat. After the typical monologue, he told us that we were to present our own vowels.

"Sorry to spring this on you but I know you're a big fan of surprises," Moriarty took my hands in his, "I promise to always protect you from whatever evils may lurk this god forsaken earth. I promise you riches as high as mountains and adventures at every turn. With you in my life, we are no longer just staying, we'll finally live."

"Charlotte," the priest spoke. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at my family, Sherlock and grandma. I have no idea where John is, perhaps he wasn't as important to Moriarty.

"I promise to be by your side, to be honest with you and...not let anyone get their filthy hands on you," he liked that one. I wanted to smack that smug smirk. The priest then announced our marriage.

He tasted different. Fresh and minty but also scaly like a snake, whatever I thought I felt for him was gone. Moriarty turned to the extremely small crowd and winked, then spoke without looking at me, "I love you."

What a showman.

So I turned to Sherlock and Grandma and said what I was supposed to, "I love you."

*

It took a while but life as one of the world's most devious criminals wife was going pretty breezy. We travelled quite a bit more than I thought we would, to Brazil, Monaco, Croatia, even New Zealand. Staying in suites and yachts; feasting on banquets and mountains of seafood. Everyone was listening to me for once, paying attention to my stupid stories and coming whenever I call.

Who knew criminal life was so good?

I made friends with a woman called Irene. We met at a gala supporting some weapons company.  
I was stirring a martini with my toothpick and olive when she approached.

"I hate these things," the silver tongued woman announced herself.

"Me too," I didn't bother looking at her straight away. It had been a particularly hard night. I had been away from home for 6 months so of course, I was homesick.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the party. I'm particularly fond of soirees and networking. I love talking shop with a drink in my hand," when I finally looked up at her my breath got caught in my throat. Her red lips turned upward slowly, copying mine, "the high neck line. I can't handle it, it's like I'm suffocating." I could tell she was biting her tongue while she studied me, "Irene." She held out her hand for me to kiss.

"Charlotte Moriarty," I put my arm out and she leant down to kiss it.

"Oh I know," the way she stared at me with her wide, tantalizing eyes made me shiver.

"I don't believe in ghosts Miss. Adler, so why are you here?" I ate the olive. Her demeanour changed even more, it's like the more she got to know me, the less confident she began to feel.

"I'm here to help."

Trap.

"I don't need help."

"Oh yes, you do darling. James Moriarty? You're honestly telling me someone as sweet as you could love someone like him?"

Trap.

"As bizarre as it may seem. We complement each other," I smiled while moving my now empty glass back on the bar bench and making sure I had everything on me, "nice to meet you, Miss Adler."

"He misses you," she called out. Stopping me in my tracks, "so much so that he's grieving."

"I'm not dead."

"You might as well be." She paused and stepped closer to me, taking my hand and slyly passing me her card, "I can get you in touch with your family-"

I was temporarily blinded by something before realising I was in trouble. My vision went upward towards the second floor. I didn't catch anything but to be safe I moved Irene and myself one step to the right.

Some poor bastard behind me copped a bullet in his back. Irene was horrified but she took a deep breath and kissed me. Properly kissed me. Tongue in mouth. Hand on waist.

It was amazing.

"Call me," she said before running off. Luckily for her everyone was focused on the man groaning and falling to the ground.

*

That was 3 months ago.

It's been a year since I've seen my old friends. Since I've seen grandma.

I thought about her every day and every night before bed. I don't even know if she's still alive. If any of them are.  
Although I do think so since I'm still here. Moriarty only married me to break Sherlock.

He hardly spends time with me. I knew he was a busy man but I didn't expect him to be away so much. I knew he wasn't cheating on me, he wouldn't do anything to break a contract.

We still conversed, he talked to me about his work a lot so I assumed he was beginning to trust me or he didn't care. It's not like I have anyone to tell.  
I was alone one night when I snapped. Crying in my bed, cold and lonely. I decided to call her.

" _Hello_ "

"I want to see him. I want to go home." She stayed silent. I knew this was a big ask but if I don't do something soon I'm going to hurt myself. "Adler-"

" _The best I can do is make contact. A small conversation at most. I'll text you_." She hung up. I sighed and got ready for dinner. Moriarty flew in at 7 so he'll be joining me for tea at 8.

I preferred to make my own meals, I didn't really trust any of Moriarty's staff. I got death glares from any female and disgusting smirks from the men. I'm just waiting for the day one of them poisons me.

Hmm. That's not a bad idea.

"So, what did my lovely wife get up to today?" We sat at the large dining room table. I served steak and salad and planted a peck on his lips.

"I caught Harry sniffing some of my underwear today as he was folding clothes...didn't really know what to say."

His jaw clenched as he took a sip of his wine, "George!" He called out, then George came running into the royal themed dining room, "have Harry fed to the dogs."

George clearly didn't know if he was kidding due to his sick sense of humour, "sir-"

"I have my reasons," I do like it when he gets jealous. George rushed out of the room. A moment of silence followed and I had to calm myself down. Whenever I was with Moriarty I acted so giddy and definitely not like myself. He brought out my animalistic side and I was beginning to hate it.

"I also called Irene Adler today."

Moriarty choked a bit, "the dead woman?"  
I nodded in response.

"I met her a few months ago. She was targeted by one of your snipers so you don't have to act surprised."

"Very well. What did you talk about?" He shrugged.

"She wants to save me so I'm indulging her."

"You indulge that woman too much and you'll end up spending a weekend tied to your bedpost...not speaking from experience," he added with a side eye, "how is she saving you?"

"She's letting me speak to John or Sherlock for five minutes," I took another sip of wine. This conversation wasn't what he was expecting.

"That's good. You haven't seen them in a while," amazing how whenever I bring up Shelly he begins smiling, "so she thinks that I've kidnapped you."

"She's sweet."

I was playing with my earring when I noticed him grinning, "she's pretty sneaky too. Are you going to break your marital vows?"

"I said no one would get their hands on you. I meant it."  
He smirked. He liked when I was jealous too. Maybe he does love me.

"We've been married a year next Sunday. Have you thought about your present?"

I sighed. Wanting to see Gran. Wanting to talk to John and Sherlock. Instead, I bit my tongue and shrugged, "just make the sex good." He smiled cheekily.

"Don't worry. I have an amazing night planned."

*

A few days later I received a text from Miss Adler telling me when and where to go. That's it. Not who I'm meeting just a place and time.

There was no doubt in my mind that Moriarty's men would be following me so I packed a wig and an outfit change along with a general shopping bag. I know I vowed to always be honest with him but I'm not stupid. I'm not putting anyone in danger.

The location was an upscale restaurant, very private so Miss Adler must have pulled some strings. Maybe I can figure out what she wants in return.

I checked my shoulder at every turn making sure no one was lingering, following or out of place. I paused just outside the single black door. The private function room was more like a speakeasy. It was down an alleyway after all.

I gave the secret knock and Adler answered. She was wearing a very deep v neck forest green jumpsuit, I guess she really hated high necks.

"Darling." She stepped to the left to let me in, "nice to see you again," Miss Adler always had the kind of smirk on her face that exuberated confidence. It reminded me of Moriarty, "were you followed?" She led me down a dark hallway and into a bar room, private booths lined the wall and I recognize a familiar hair silhouette.

"Probably," I muttered and picked up my pace towards the booth. I removed my wig and set it on the table next to the tea light candles, "Sherl-oof"

I panicked at first, thinking I was being tackled from behind but the familiar scent of sweet yet floral perfume hit my nose. She released me for a moment, letting me turn and we embraced very tightly.

"Oh, honey. You're not eating, are you? You're a twig," my tiny grandmother slapped my arm. I didn't expect to start crying but here I am.

"I miss you too," I then turned to Sherlock and bear hugged him whereas he took his time and just patted my back.

"I...I'm...you look well," he gulped. Feeling emotional, "so why did you call this meeting?"

"Miss Adler seems to have a soft spot for me," we all sat in the red and black velvet booth. I nervously fidgeted and Sherlock obviously noticed.

"And you just sentenced her to death, didn't you?"

I pumped my eyebrows, acknowledging that he was correct, "can you help her? I don't want to pick up the paper in a few days seeing that she's been decapitated again."

"You underestimate my brother. He'd be humiliated if that got out," he joked.

"How are you, love? Are you safe?" Grandma wouldn't let me go, she's been holding my hand this entire time.

"Yes. I'm in the safest building in the world. I promise I won't...be long,"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Here. I brought a little gift for you two, well, three. Crossword book. Took me a while to do it myself so I thought you'd have some fun. I can't stay long, the hubby will be wondering where I am. And I'm sorry I haven't been in touch, we've been travelling a lot. I'll be sure to catch up next week sometime," our goodbyes were short. I was escorted through a door that led into a convenience store about a block away from the speakeasy.

I spotted those familiar black cars all around me and got into one, rolling my eyes whilst doing so.

"Mr Moriarty won't be pleased," the driver spoke.

"Couldn't give a shit, mate. Let's go by Krispy Kreme I'm wanting dessert." I pulled out my phone and checked my social media, the only connection I have to the outside world at the moment.

I was getting tired of constantly being the 'housewife', doing whatever was needed from me just to please Moriarty. Hopefully, Sherlock cracks my message.

All of them featured the same answers for the first few pages. Hopefully, they notice that but continue on with the book anyway.  
I hid messages on every page. Leading to different pages and eventually spelling out what I need.

Ricin.

*

Well, it must have turned out that they didn't get it because it was a week of silence since my little conversation with Sherlock and grandma and nothing has happened. Now it was time for my anniversary dinner with Moriarty.

When I woke up on my first anniversary as a married woman my husband was missing from my bed. I woke up to a hand written note and credit card.

_Buy something nice, my love. I'll see you tonight_   
_xx_

I shrugged and took the card. If I'm going to be a trophy wife I might as well play the part. I ended up going into full retail therapy mode and spent over a grand on just regular clothes then an extra few hundred on some jewellery and finally quite a large amount on a gown for my dinner. It was as white as the heavens with a deep v neck that flowed down my chest like water due to the silky fabric. I'll definitely need some boob tape.

I arrived at dinner 20 minutes late due to my make up efforts but the look that Moriarty gave me - I could tell I was forgiven.

"You look...angelic," he frowned for a moment but snapped himself back to reality. He was wearing a black suit with a bowtie.

"You know how you look," I smirked as I let my eyes trail down him, "happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary," he kissed my lips, "so what did I buy you?" We sat.

"A lot of clothes. Some tasteful jewellery,"

"I see," his eyes stuck to my chest at the large golden necklace draped around me.

"I got you something too," I reached into the handbag I brought along. He didn't take the small box at first; he seemed to think it was a prank.

When he finally opened the present he frowned in confusion, "is this a threat?" He wasn't offended, just confused.

"He's gone. His henchmen are also going one by one. I'll be totally safe soon. I was wondering if you'd kindly take a picture of his...that thing and send it to your aliases. I'm sick of being at home all the time-"

"Did you do this yourself?" The corners of his mouth began turning upward.

"Of course not. I've made some connections, I know not to get my hands dirty."

"I'll be honest with you. If you did this by yourself I may have been a bit jealous."

"Send the photo out. Monitor the picture, see if it comes up on any message boards. Someone will slip up and I'll send my men on their way," I took a bite out of my salmon.

"How did you get your own employees?" He was grinning throughout the entire conversation.

"It doesn't hurt having the last name 'Moriarty'. Best key in the world."

"So, my men?"

"What's yours is mine, my love." I smiled cheekily as he playfully rolled his eyes. He closed the box as he heard footsteps on the hardwood. Good idea to keep a rotting chopped off penis away from any light.

"May I interest the two of you in our dessert menu?" The waiter was standing behind James. We didn't bother looking at him very much.

"I'll have another glass of champagne, thank you." when I looked up I saw a terribly disguised Sherlock. He wore one of grandma's red wigs and an old pair of Johns glasses without any lenses. I think he also had a pencil-drawn moustache.

"Very good madam," what was that accent? Polish or French?

"I think I'll grab the macaron assortment. Curse my sweet tooth."

"Very good sir. I'll be back with your champagne and macarons," Sherlock left and arrived back moments later. He carried the champagne bottle in one hand and the food in the other. As he poured the drink he 'stumbled' and let it pour over my chest.  
I gasped at the shock and stood up.  
"My apologies, madam. I'm so so sorry! Here let me help you-" he grabbed a cloth napkin and began patting my chest, I could feel my necklace being pulled.

"It's fine. Let me go to the bathroom," I grabbed my coat in case I needed to take the dress off.

Sherlock rushed behind me but didn't come into the bathroom right away, probably to avoid suspicion.

"He's probably going to murder me, so let's make this quick," Sherlock took my handbag and ripped a seam.

"Hey!-" I stopped myself when I noticed him pull out a tiny pouch of sand. The riding.

"I'm sewing it into the lining so it won't be noticeable,"

"No one looks through my bag anyway."

"Sure they don't," he stayed silent while sewing the lining back carefully but quickly, "here. He's probably expecting you." He handed me back my bag. "I'm just going to quickly sneak out, do me a favour and trip over your own feet so people pay attention. And Charlotte...I'm glad you're still you."

"Am I?" It wasn't rhetorically, I wanted to desperately be my old self. Sherlock glanced down to my bag but didn't answer me, he rushed to the end of the bathroom and jumped out of the high window. I quickly stripped the wet dress off and put on my large coat. I pretended to trip, which in turn made everyone look and caught a glimpse of Sherlock walking past the front of the restaurant.

He's safe.

*

The dime bag contained less than a teaspoon of ricin. I unstitched my handbag later that night in the bathroom and contemplated going through with it. I'm not a killer. I'm still me.

But I didn't react to someone being shot in the head right in front of me.

That's not normal. That's not me.

If I do this I am opening up the seat for the next king of crime.

Or Queen.

My mind stayed blank as I stared at the claw foot tub. Could I really step up to the plate? Organised crime: blackmail, money laundering...murder.

I have to be smart about this.

*

It's been a week and I still haven't used the ricin. I knew I'd do this, I always back out at the last possible second. I'm not a killer. Maybe I could be happy on Moriarty's side. He treats me well; I have shelter, food and I never have to worry about money again.

It's the human in me.

_Need your help_   
_SH_

Oh, thank god.

"Sherlock?" I crept into the open apartment as best I could. It was difficult creeping anywhere now with my new attire. I was wearing a black bodycon dress and stilettos. I've turned into a bond girl.

"Charlie! Thank goodness you're here! Would you back me up-" on a case? I need to get out of the house so bad, "by agreeing that it is pronounced 'espresso'?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"What?" His smugness went away.

"I know it's pronounced with an 's'! What I originally said-" John began.

"Oh it doesn't matter now does it!?" Sherlock interrupted then turned to me, "is it done?"

I opened my mouth, wanting to answer but shaking my head was easier.

"Is what done?" John asked. Sherlock studied my features, obviously noticing my new outfit. Shopping doesn't bring me much joy anymore.

"Nothing," he answered John softly, "mind putting the kettle on while you're here?" Sherlock asked me and went to sit on his couch.

"Don't be rude, I'll do it." John got up.

I smiled sheepishly, "I don't usually let others prepare my meals anymore."

"Don't trust his servants?"

"I'm assuming that sleeping with the boss is a part of the job interview," I joined John in the kitchen, "how's Miss Adler?"

"Alive for now. She should be laying on a beach in Australia right about now. How was your anniversary?" Sherlock asked.

"Not too exciting but I got a Chanel bag out of it," I sat by John's laptop reading the name of his last adventure.

"And what about your plan?" Sherlock's voice got quieter.

"I'm in the planning stage still."

"Better hurry up," Sherlock passed me the paper for the day. There's been an assassination attempt on the Prime Minister. She had been shot in the shoulder, to her luck the bullet went straight through. Of course, Moriarty would be connected to something like this, it would have been a warning shot. Whatever he has planned has something to do with fucking Brexit I just know it.

"I have to go. Raincheck on the tea John!" I quickly left.

*

I'm not going to prepare dinner tonight but I am going to find a way to get that ricin in him. I looked through the fridge trying to find anything that I don't eat but he will. I considered the sauces but members of staff might try to the food while cooking. I could put it in the wine but then the toxicology report would just reveal that it wasn't in the food. What about a snack? Maybe an apple? But I'd have to make sure it wasn't sticky due to the vial. Just swallowing it myself would tempting by now. Planning a murder is hard work.

"Mrs Moriarty, can I prepare something for you?" a worker entered the kitchen. Then suddenly it clicked.

"Which member of staff is the best cake maker? I'd do it myself but I have no idea what to put into the crust of a cheesecake." Once the worker got the man for the job I chose the flavour of the cream and crust, "Thank you, that's dessert sorted for tonight."

When dinner approached I became nervous, almost sickly. No - definitely sickly. I felt like vomiting and have been for a week. The stress of the situation has really gotten to me and now that it's showtime, of course, I want to back out - but it's too late, the ricin is already in the cream of the cheesecake.

"Are feeling sick?" Moriarty was the clean type and hated getting sick. I just breathed deeply and tried fighting the nausea.

"Yes I'm just-" I felt my forehead, "I might be coming down with something I'll go see a doctor tomorrow."

"Nonsense, I'll have one come by tonight," he shooed then called one of the workers, "Seamus, call a doctor for Charlotte here. Flu-like symptoms."

"I'm also tasting metal lately. It's gross," My mind entered overdrive as the cheesecake arrived at the table, "Wait."

"What?" Moriarty had the cheesecake on his fork, just in front of his mouth. But I ruined it, I ruined all of my hard work by vomiting on the table. Moriarty held his palm to his mouth and tried not vomiting himself, "somebody clean this up! Now! And get that doctor!"

"He's on his way sir," Seamus replied timidly. I suddenly felt like karma was coming for me. Did I accidentally eat or drink something that was poisoned? Inhale something I didn't mean to inhale?

"It sounds like you may be pregnant," the doctor told me. I sat with Moriarty on the couch just stunned. I can't have the antichrist growing inside of me.

"Excuse me?"

"You can easily buy an at-home test but I do recommend getting some bloods done."

*   
So we did.

Got all the bloods done and it turns out I was already 9 weeks along which meant that I could go in for an ultrasound soon. I waited until 12 weeks and the heartbeat almost made me cry.

I still wasn't sure if they were happy or sad tears. My life was seriously about to change. I was bringing a child into this dangerous world and I still wasn't sure about killing the father.

It was only a matter of time before I had to tell Grandma, Sherlock and John. I knocked on their door at 15 weeks, I had a noticeable bump in this tighter dress.

"You look fatter," Sherlock's first words were.

"Sherlock!" Grandma and John scolded him.

"I certainly am," I muttered, "I have news," they all saw me touch my belly and gasped slightly, "I'm having a little boy."

"Who's the father?" Sherlock asked while sipping at his tea.

"James."

"James is it? Not calling him Moriarty anymore," he paused, clearly angry, "are congratulations in order?"

I hesitated before answering, "This was always part of the plan." It was my code and I prayed that he'd understand.

"I can't wait to meet him," Grandma gave me a hug, as well as John.

"Have you picked out a name?"

"James. Stick to the legacy I suppose," I shrugged. I didn't bother telling them that I chose it.

"Of course. If you need darling please please call me," Grandma took my hands, "I pray for you every night."

Sherlock scoffed, "ignore him," John rubbed my arm.

"Can I talk to you alone?" I asked Sherlock. John and Gran went downstairs. Sherlock didn't bother looking at me, why should he?

"What plan? Who's plan do you keep talking about?"

"Clearly his," I paused, "but I know that I'm going to be safe - that you're going to be safe," I swallowed my tears thinking about my impending doom. Childbirth is something that terrifies me, things go wrong all the time and with my luck I'll end up dead on the day of my baby's birth.

"How do you know?" Sherlock put down his tea and leaned on his pyjama covered knees.

"Appendicitis Chaney," I said, it took a second but he figured it out. I've been making smoothies with peach pits and apple seeds and giving Moriarty a sip or so every morning for the past week. It was only a matter of time.

"What happened to plan a?"

"You know how these things go," I shrugged.

"Flatterers haunted?"

"Not yet," it took me a moment to unscramble his words, "we'll be okay and here again soon."

"Be careful Charlotte."

"You too Sherlock."

*

It happened.

It finally happened.

It was all over the news and papers. In every magazine and online article. People were already blaming me, claiming that I was the trophy wife that killed the older millionaire but I had a lot of supporters too. Claiming that I had nothing to do with it since he was so rich and obviously had a pre nup.

I didn't expect to be in the public eye so often and so immediately. I had to announce his death as well as give out a statement. It was terrible.

I knew his enemies would either try and court me or kill me so I made some promises and some friends. I had the occasional threat come through the door but no one made a move.

On the day of his funeral I was seven months pregnant. The eulogy I gave was emotional but funny. I was the perfect host and accepted everyones grief on my shoulders. I revealed the name of my son and promised to the large crowd to raise him to be someone who his father would be amazingly proud of.

The press wanted even more photos and questions but Grandma had a good scolding and told them not to be such leeches.

It was a long journey.

I never broke my marital vows.   
  
  


I was honest with him.   
I stayed by his side.

I never let anyone get their filthy hands on him.

 


End file.
